


Relief Next To Me

by dolce_piccante



Series: Relief Next To Me [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ass Play, Ass to Mouth, Baked Goods, Blow Jobs, Bubble Bath, Car Sex, Craigslist, Cuddling, Felching, Fluff and Smut, Foot Massage, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Laughter, Laughter During Sex, M/M, Making Out, Massage, Oral Sex, Past Drug Use, Phone Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Rimming, Snogging, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-01-07 08:52:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 333,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dolce_piccante/pseuds/dolce_piccante
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. What happens when a baker and a graphic designer meet via a very specific Craigslist post? Fate, friendship, food, and maybe more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer: This is a work of complete fiction. Never happened, not real, no offense is intended. Absolutely does not reflect upon the real life people mentioned in this fictional story. No profit is being made from this work. The story, and its characters, belong to me. Please do not repost anywhere and do not print/distribute. Please do not translate my story, as I am not authorizing translations at this time. This is all meant to be just silly fun. For serious publishing inquiries, please comment with contact information.**  
>    
> The internet is a scary place, including Craigslist! Please do not take this fic seriously and be sure to always be safe when using the internet. I do not in any way advocate meeting strangers on Craigslist and urge you to always be private and safe online.
> 
> Huge thank you to [Jess!](http://whitechimes.tumblr.com) for her incredible support and help and patience! Also, thank you to my boo D for being a lovely cheerleader!
> 
>   
>  **GIFSET**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [Amazing fic GIF Set by Helen here!](http://seplei.tumblr.com/post/108679263709/relief-next-to-me-by-dolce-piccante-haydolce)
> 
>  
> 
> **RECIPES**
> 
>  
> 
> [ Amazing Le Louis recipe by Emmy here!](http://theemmed.tumblr.com/post/111821194418/this-recipe-is-based-on-the-fic-relief-next-to-me)
> 
>  
> 
> [Lonely London Bars](http://dieinthewinter.tumblr.com/post/112558369150/relief-next-to-me-lonely-london-bars-recipe) by [ dieinthewinter ](%E2%80%9C)
> 
> [Le Louis Chocolates](http://dieinthewinter.tumblr.com/post/112645292255/i-tried-my-hand-on-haydolces-relief-next-to-me) by [ dieinthewinter ](%E2%80%9C)
> 
> [Almond Croissants](http://dieinthewinter.tumblr.com/post/112591542345/relief-next-to-me-almond-croissants) by [ dieinthewinter ](%E2%80%9C)
> 
>  
> 
> **ART**
> 
>  
> 
> [ Beautiful Valentine's Day art by NEQX](http://36.media.tumblr.com/17cc5552fde507898628498bb6eafc7c/tumblr_n8apilectY1s9nd4po1_1280.jpg)
> 
> [ Adorable Harry art by ashleyrguillory](http://41.media.tumblr.com/d850d707ada46a85d3350564d6c49235/tumblr_ng2nntnYHi1qibuado1_1280.jpg)  
> 

_Are you uncut? Clean? Open-minded?_

_You're in luck!_

_I'm a single 25 year old male looking to try out an uncut dick of a similar age (attached to a single male) for a quick blow job experiment._

_Please email your first name, age, general location, and a photo of your dick with a Post-It on the shaft. On the Post-It, draw me a flower using your favorite color crayon/marker/pencil/etc. No faces in the photo, as I don't care what you look like, and could you imagine if your nude photo leaked? What if you're a celebrity one day? Please mention Craigslist in your subject line._

_If chosen, please be prepared to provide your ID and two most recent medical screenings to prove you are indeed clean. That is an absolute necessity. If you arrive without documentation, I will send you on your way._

_Sounds crazy, right? But, hey, you're getting free head out of it._

_No romance. No kissing. No sleepover. Just head._

_Best of luck!_

_-L_

 

"Tell me again why you're doing this?"

Louis shut his MacBook and smiled at the glowing white apple, shaking his head.

"You're going to think I'm crazy."

"We've blown past that," Liam said, refilling Louis' mug. Coffee tinged steam rose from the white porcelain cup. "Excellent eggs, by the way."

Louis lifted his fork in cheers, a bit of scrambled eggs hanging off the end.

"I just feel like gaining a bit more experience with uncut dicks. That's all."

Liam burst out laughing as he sat in his seat. From somewhere in the flat, Zayn could be heard groaning. It was a noise Louis was familiar with.

"You sound like you're taking a seminar to strengthen your Power Point skills. Or to broaden your social media horizons." Liam munched on toast for a moment, tilting his head. "Though I guess technically this is broadening your social media horizons?"

Louis smiled down at his breakfast, using his toast to push the remainder of his eggs around. He crossed his ankles under the table, bare feet shuffling on the hardwood floor.

"Yes, I'll have to update my resume immediately. Maybe even add it to my business cards."

"Why don't you just pull a few guys and see how that goes?"

"Ugh, that would require such effort."

"No way," Liam said, laughing again. "You pull at the bloody grocery store. The pharmacy."

"Funerals," Zayn said, shuffling into the kitchen. He wrapped an arm around Liam's chest, hand flattening on the center. His voice was like gravel to say, "Morning, love," into Liam's hair, kissing him twice on the crown on his head.

"Funerals is bullshit," Louis insisted, shoving toast into his mouth. 

"False," Liam said, coffee poised at his lips. “You, me, your uncle's step-nephew's girlfriend’s brother Trevor, and the Lord Jesus Christ know that I speak the truth.”

"I'm not commenting on this ridiculous accusation,” Louis said over Liam, though he was smirking while chewing his last bite of eggs. He swallowed and placed his fork on the center of his empty place. “All I'm saying, is that I'd like to find someone to blow once, figure things out, and then be done with it. I don't want to pull or flirt or date or any of that."

Zayn flopped down in his seat. He wrapped his hand around Liam's coffee and brought it to his lips.

"This wouldn't have anything to with...” He sipped for a moment and winced. "Too much bloody sugar, babe. To do with Thor, would it?"

"Ooh, Thor talk." Liam placed his elbows on the table, planting his chin on his clasped hands. Louis shot daggers from across the table, his posture still relaxed as he read something on his iPad. "Do tell."

Thor was actually named Evan. He was one of Louis' colleagues at Simone, the most in-demand advertising agency in London. Louis and Evan worked together on almost every project for the past three years or so. Electric toothbrushes, high end alcohol, big name brand technology. All received their advertising expertise. Evan resembled Thor, something that only added to Louis' appreciation of him. 

Thor was transferred to their Chicago office the day after New Year's, which Louis had not quite gotten over yet. Their chat at the company Christmas party, however, had made Louis question whether he should request a move to the Windy City.

“C'mon, Lou, spill,” Liam said, nudging their bare feet under the table.

Louis' eyes snapped to Liam and Zayn.

“Nothing to say about Thor. He just...” Louis glanced at his iPad screen, three new email tones sounding. Zayn rounded the table, planting himself at the coffee pot and simply inhaling. “We had a good chat at the party, that's all.”

“A good chat that inspired you to suck some dick?”

Louis smiled at Zayn's rasped comment and scrolled through to another email. He could feel caramel eyes burning a hole in his iPad screen.

“Jesus,” Zayn said, leaning over Louis' shoulder, a steaming mug of coffee gripped in his hand. “Is that a Post-It?”

Louis wrinkled his nose and went to the next email. 

“Yeah. It's how I asked them to submit photos so I know it's real, not just a porn picture they sent.”

Zayn pulled one of the kitchen chairs up next to Liam, his body slinking sideways into him.

“And how do you know that this person won't be either crazy or a murderer or dirty as fuck or all of the above?”

“He put very specific instructions,” Liam said, opening Louis' laptop. He typed the password in without thought (fucks0ck$) and brought up the ad. “See?” He turned the screen to Zayn, nodding sagely. “Very thorough.”

Louis cooed and opened his fingers on the iPad screen.

“Aw, guys, look at this one. He drew me a rose and his favorite color is purple. Precious.”

He turned the iPad towards them. Zayn inhaled suddenly through his clenched teeth.

“Jesus, those piercings. I'm all for body art, but Christ.” He adjusted himself in his track bottoms. “How does he even piss?”

Liam eyed the photo, pursing his lips forward.

“He's got nice fingernails, though, so he's probably quite clean.”

Zayn laughed, pecking Liam's lips.

“I love you and the way your brain works.”

Louis placed his iPad on the kitchen table and stood up, grabbing Liam's breakfast plate as he passed. His iPad continued to shoot off tones and vibrations, all three staring at it.

“Fuck, I just posted the ad,” Louis said, rinsing his plate. “I don't know if the speedy replies are sad or inspiring.”

“Well,” Liam appeared at his side, “seeing as searching for a job is incredibly competitive, maybe your applicants are treating this particular job with the same sort of commitment.”

Louis squirted soap into a frying pan.

“I should have asked for resumes.”

“To find out what?” Zayn asked, propping his feet on Louis' empty chair. He shut his eyes and let his head tilt back. “Applicant one speaks intermediate French and Spanish--”

“Ooh, how international,” Liam butted in.

“--is comfortable with HTML, Java, and Adobe Photoshop--”

“Intelligent,” Liam said, shoving Zayn's legs away to sit down. 

“--And loves blow jobs.”

“That's my hope,” Louis said, placing the pan on a drying rack. “I'll have to screen applicants later. I've got yoga in an hour and want to stop at the store first to get mouthwash. Either of you need anything?”

“Nope, thanks, though,” Liam said, smiling up at Louis. “Such a responsible young man, you are.”

Zayn's eyes popped open, his wrist flying in front of his face.

“Fuck, Li, why did you let me sleep so late?”

“Let you? As if there was another option?”

Louis smiled to himself as he padded down the hallway to his bedroom, Liam and Zayn quietly ribbing each other in the kitchen, which concluded with Liam offering to make Zayn cheesy eggs and what was left of the bacon.

. . . 

When Louis returned to his flat a couple of hours later he was sweaty and exhausted in the best way. Liam and Zayn were out, giving him the place to himself. He plugged his iPhone into his bathroom dock, stripped his clothes off, and then spent almost an hour in the shower. The only annoying thing was that his phone would cut music out each time he received an email, which was quite often. It really broke up his dancing rhythm.

He flopped on his bed in just black boxer briefs, his iPad resting on the bed. He started to scroll through emails. He never thought he'd get tired of seeing cocks, but after a while, they all started to blend with each other. Some penises weren't even qualified for the project and did not feature foreskin, which seemed to be a clear indication that they were not the right match. And the flower choices. Pathetic, at best. Daisies were cheerful and easy to draw, but a little creativity would have been nice.

He was just about to call it a dick day when he received an email titled: _Hi, I'm Harry and I read Craigslist sometimes...Usually when I take a break from admiring my perfect, uncut cock :)_

Louis cracked a smile, the tips of his fingers tingling as he opened the email.

_Hi! I'm Harry. I'm twenty-three, though I turn twenty-four in a couple of weeks. I actually don't possess a perfect cock, just a normal one that appreciates hands and mouths and, if I'm feeling wild, maybe a bit of teeth. I've attached my photo to this email. I'm in London (Kentish Town) and have a strange work schedule, but I can try to work around your scheduling needs. Hope to hear from you soon!_

Right off the bat, before even seeing the photo, Louis appreciated that this so called Harry spelled out the numbers, instead of using digits. It just read more elegant that way. He also appreciated that Harry could spell without using text speak. That alone made his cock perk up in his boxer briefs.

He scrolled down and slowly murmured, “Hello, Harry,” aloud, smiling at the screen.

Harry's uncut cock seemed to be only half-hard, his wet head peeking out of the tender deep pink skin, but still enough that he needed his entire palm to prop it up. He had a touch of soft looking brown hair on his groin, his fingernails clean (Liam would approve) and his hand meaty. He couldn't see his face or most of his body, but he looked to be muscled, his skin smooth.

Louis bit his bottom lip, smile widening into a grin. His favorite flower was apparently tulips, but he'd broken a rule and used two colors of magic marker to create his detailed sketch. He used red for the flower itself and green for the stem. He'd also drawn a smiley face on the bottom of of the note in bright blue, along with a tiny print of: Sorry, I heart colors, with the heart drawn in red.

“I think we have a winner,” Louis said, opening a message to reply.

. . .

The next morning, Louis made Liam extra fluffy pancakes with blueberries. When his roommate sat down at the table he smiled up at Louis, his eyes bright and his body bouncing.

“Eat up.”

“What's the occasion for all this?” Liam asked, poising his fork for a bite.

“I have a favor to ask.”

Liam stopped his fork just shy of hitting pancake.

“As you already know, I don't qualify for your study for two big reasons. One being the lovely Zayn, the other being, well,” he looked down at his crotch, “you know.”

Louis burst out laughing, digging into his own breakfast.

“No, no, crazy. God, no. Ugh.” He shivered with his entire body, mouth opening in a wild grimace. “No. Fuck, that'd be like blowing my brother.”

“Gross.”

“Yeah, no. I just need you to sit in the flat for about twenty minutes this afternoon.” He chewed for a moment, swallowing before adding, “Maybe thirty, if Harry's especially up for it.”

Liam raised his eyebrows, his mouth agape and pancake bumping his bottom lip.

“Harry?”

“The winning candidate,” Louis said, sipping his coffee. “I picked him and he's free for a bit later today, so.” He shrugged one shoulder, his baggy white vee neck slouching. “He's coming over at around three.” 

“And he met all your qualifications?”

“Via email? Yes. But we'll have to see when he gets here. If the ID and stuff matches his story.”

Louis brought up his Facebook on the iPad, smiling to himself. His twin sisters had a birthday coming up and their mum had posted a picture of them posing in their special birthday dresses on his wall.

“I mean, I'm as clean as can be, and have never had an issue with that, but I don't think I kept the paperwork from my last screening, let alone two screenings ago.”

He pulled up Harry's most recent email, eyes scanning over his message.

“Apparently, he had a wild couple of years in his early twenties. He's chilled a bit. He still gets tested regularly, which is kind of more arousing to me than most other possible features he could have.”

“Sounds good,” Liam said, dumping a spoonful of sugar in his coffee. He stirred quickly, tapping the spoon on the side of the mug. “So,” he sipped once, humming, “what am I supposed to tell Zayn if he asks why I'm sitting around the flat trying not to listen to the sounds coming from your room?”

Louis colored at that thought, the back of his neck warm. 

“There won't be any noises, just,” he stumbled over his words, “just, I dunno. Put on headphones. Isn't that a roommate thing to do?” 

“And Zayn? What do I tell him? I mean,” Liam's eyes went warm, almost concerned, “may I tell him? I promise not to say anything, if you don't want me to.”

Louis smirked, twirling his fork on his plate.

“Hmm, let's just say that we're, uh,” he speared a bite with extra blueberries, “exchanging CDs.”

“CDs?”

“Yeah. Like I have some old CDs to get rid of, Harry has some to get rid of, so we're swapping.” Louis stared at Liam for another beat. “And,” he said, almost letting out a giggle, “we are exchanging come and dicks--”

“Oh, fuck, I knew that was what you were going to say!” Liam pointed his fork at Louis' hysterically laughing face. “I knew you were going to say come and dicks! Why did I know you were going to say that!?”

. . .

Louis smoothed his hand over his duvet, tugging the bottom left corner into place. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and lifted his hands to his hair, pushing the front off his forehead. He had showered after breakfast and attempted to do his hair, but he loathed primping on Sundays. He preferred to spend Sundays in sweats and a beanie with a steady stream of warm beverages or chilled wine, but he was expecting a guest. He had to at least make an effort to look presentable.

He went to close his closet door and frowned at the neat line of shoes around the bottom. He itched his ankle with his bare right foot. They were going to end up on the bed anyway, so why bother with shoes?

He shut the door, did a final scan of the room, and sighed happily. He'd managed to both tidy up his room and hide any potential personal information. He could smell the lemon cleaner he used on his hardwood floors. His bed was outfitted with clean pale blue sheets and his darker blue duvet.

He left the bedroom just in time to hear his door buzz. Liam emerged from his hallway and smiled at Louis, headphones and his laptop in hand. He sat at the kitchen table and plugged himself in.

“Have fun,” he said, lips twitching not to laugh.

Louis snorted and padded to the front door. He held his thumb over the speaker button.

“Hello?”

“Tulips,” a deep voice said through the speaker. The hair on the back of Louis' neck stood up, Liam leaning back in his chair to eye the speaker, his brows raised. Somehow, the voice made their tinny intercom system sound warm and smooth. “Red tulips?”

“Oh, yes,” Louis said, holding down the black door button. He heard the door buzz through the speaker, the sound of it opening and closing sounding next. He stepped away from the door and ran his hand over the back of his neck. He felt eyes on him and looked to Liam. “What?”

“Nice voice, is all.”

“Weren't you supposed to be wearing headphones?”

Liam just giggled and popped his earbuds into his ears, giving Louis two thumbs up. His music vibrated in the air a second later, his fingers flying over his keyboard.

“Wait,” Louis said suddenly, holding his palm on the closer door. He jerked his hand at Liam and flicked his fingers towards Liam's side of the flat. “Go to your room.”

Liam pulled one earbud out.

“But why, mum?”

“Because I don't want to freak him out if you're sitting here.”

“But what if he murders you?”

“You'll hear it from your room.”

Liam grinned and shook his head.

“Whatever, man.” He picked up his laptop and strolled to his hallway, giggling, “Blow him away,” before shutting his bedroom door.

Harry knocked on the door, three soft knocks. Louis pulled the door open, then dragged his eyes upward.

He was reminded of the time when his boss took him out to dinner a month into working at the agency, just to talk about how he felt at the new position and get to know each other. They went to an expensive Italian restaurant where the food was meticulous and precise, course after course of flavors exploding on his tongue. No canned tomato sauce or over cheesed pizza to be found. 

While eating the most delicious food he'd ever had while receiving nothing but positive praise from his boss, Louis thought he was going to come in his pants for the first time since he was fifteen. 

He felt that sensory overload the moment he opened the door, one long second passing while he stared up at the long limbed, bright eyed, curly haired man taking up most of his doorway, the bob of his throat only reminding Louis of his deep voice. So much potential for pleasure.

“Hi, I'm Louis,” he said, holding his hand out. He could turn on professional at the drop of a hat. “Thanks for coming by.”

“Hi,” he was gripped tight and warm in Harry's fleshy hand, “I'm Harry. Nice to meet you.” While Louis added polite to his mental list of Harry items, which included collarbones, black t-shirt, and skin, Harry brought his left hand out from behind his back. “Oh, these are for you.”

Louis took the offered white box, his brows furrowed together.

“Oh.” He let go of Harry's hand to lift the top off, sugar and butter filling his nostrils. “Cookies?”

“Yup. Just a bit of a mix.” Harry put his hands in the pockets of his tight black skinnies. “They go well with coffee or tea.”

"You brought cookies to a Craigslist blow job?"

Harry shrugged his right shoulder.

"They were in my car. Brought them home from work. Thought you might like some."

"Where do you work?"

"Uh…A bakery."

Louis nodded and hummed, Harry's eyes crinkling with mirth. He walked closer to the kitchen and placed the cookies on the table. He turned to Harry, noting that Harry's wide eyes were scanning around the spacious, light filled living room.

“Nice windows.”

“Thanks, yeah, I loved them when I looked at the place.”

Harry turned in a circle, his legs seeming to understand the idea of moving faster than his long feet. His boots dragged a little while he turned. He smiled at Louis once he was turned around.

“You have a lovely home.”

“Oh, uh, thanks. My flatmate is in his bedroom, so,” his lips clenched together for a minute, Harry blinking at him, “no murdering, okay?”

Harry chuckled, “Okay, no problem,” in that raspy, deep voice.

"Alright then," Louis said, clapping his hands together once. "Have you got your ID and paperwork?"

"Right, yeah." Harry dug inside his rucksack for a moment. "Here are..." He hummed, his brows scrunching inward while he searched. “Aha.” He smiled onto the open rucksack and pulled a clipped stack of papers. “My most recent screenings."

Louis checked over the document, making a mental note of Harry's last name (Styles), his address (not too far from him, actually), his age (twenty-three), the fact that he drank socially but did not smoke (plus), and that he was completely disease free (biggest plus). He also noted Harry's neat handwriting in the top right corner of each paper, along with an orange tab on the center of each sheet, both listing the months DECEMBER and SEPTEMBER.

"Here's my ID."

He held Harry's ID up next to his face, unable to control a small laugh from escaping.

"Were you twelve when you took this photo?"

"Hey," Harry said, slow and deep, amusement lighting his eyes. "I was a late bloomer, alright?" Louis chuckled again, softer, and handed him his ID. "Um. May I see yours, too?"

"Oh! Right. Yes." Louis pulled his ID out of his pocket and handed it over. He jogged into the kitchen, standing on tiptoe near the fridge. "Lemme just grab this."

Harry appeared next to him, extending his mega-arm to reach a file folder. 

"This what you're looking for?"

"Yup."

Harry smirked down at him and handed him the file, Louis tilting his head back to look into his eyes. A little tingle manifested in his stomach.

"Because everyone keeps sensitive information on top of an appliance they can't reach."

"Ha ha," Louis deadpanned, handing over his screenings.

Harry held it up, squinting from the paper to Louis' face. He ran his thumb over a bit of bright yellow paper stuck over where Louis' last name would be.

"Did you really cut tiny pieces of Post-It to cover your information?"

"I did."

Harry dropped his arm to his side.

"Are you serious?"

"You could be an identity thief."

“Or a murderer,” Harry said lowly, widening his doe eyes.

“Or both,” Louis said on a gasp. “Could you imagine my luck?”

“Would be total shit,” Harry said, nodding. “Luckily,” he handed the paperwork back and smiled, “I'm not.”

“Excellent news.” Louis placed his papers in the manilla folder and handed it over to Harry, who placed it on top of the fridge for him. He put his ID in his pocket and tilted his head to the left. “Wanna start?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you want.”

“Cool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from my favorite Tegan and Sara song, [ Relief Next To Me ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yftgnkdan8%20)
> 
> Come say hello on [ LJ](http://dolce-piccante.livejournal.com) and [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com) :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the sweet comments on Chapter 1! Sorry for the cliff hanger ;)...Thanks as always to [Jess](whitechimes.tumblr.com) and D. Enjoy!

Louis led the way through the open plan kitchen to his bedroom hallway. He tried not to think too much about the fact that he could feel eyes on his back, the heat of Harry's gaze burning below the waistband of his skinnies more often than not.

He looked over his shoulder. Harry smiled at him, eyes darting up to meet his face, and hitched his rucksack on his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

Louis asked the first thing he could think of.

“Where's your coat? It's freezing out.”

“Left it in the car. Warm in here, though. Nice.” Harry looked away from him when they passed a framed photo of Louis, Liam and Zayn on the hallway wall. It was from two New Years Eves ago, all three laughing and throwing confetti at the camera with champagne in hand. “Just one flatmate?”

“Yeah. His name is Liam.”

“Pretty sweet that you're so spread out.”

Louis opened his bedroom door and held his hand out, Harry smiling shyly and ducking his head as he walked inside.

“Yeah, it's a definite plus.” He thumbed to a closed door on the right side of his room, shutting the bedroom door. “Do you need to use the bathroom or anything?”

“Nope, I'm good.”

Harry dropped his rucksack near the door. He bent over, his body folded in half while he unzipped the sides of his suede ankle boots. He lifted his socked feet out, midnight blue on his left foot and striped white and grey on his right. Louis smiled a bit, holding his hand over his mouth and sitting on the bed.

“I need to do laundry tonight,” Harry said, standing to his full height. He noted Louis' unwavering gaze and wiggled his left foot at him. “Hope this doesn't disqualify me from the pool of applicants. Promise they're clean.”

Louis removed his hand, but his smile remained.

“Nah, I'll let it slide.” He moved higher on the bed, dragging himself closer to his headboard. He took a bottle of lube out of his bedside drawer and tossed it on the bed. “I'm sucking your cock, not your toes.”

Harry giggled and put one knee on the bed next to him.

“May I?”

“Yeah, sure. Make yourself comfortable.”

They shifted around, Harry ending up on his back on the center of the bed, Louis kneeling at around his knees on the right side. Louis sat on his feet and placed his palms flat down on the tops of his thighs.

“Alright, so, just to review: I'm going to play with your cock for a bit, ask some questions, and blow you. That's it.”

“Yes,” Harry said, nodding. He rolled onto his side to face Louis, propping his head up with his hand. “Sounds good.”

“Cool.”

Louis went for Harry's belt while Harry wrapped his arm around Louis' waist at the same time, his lips zoning in on his face.

"Hey," Louis said on a soft laugh, gliding his face to the side. "Sorry." His hand landed on the center of Harry's chest. "Don't mean to be rude, but I'm not comfortable with anything extra. I just want to feel my way around." He eyed Harry, whose lips were pursed in an invisible kiss, his eyes confused. "Is that alright with you?"

Harry's lips snapped back, an easy grin smothering any feeling of awkwardness. The boy was gifted.

"Sure, yeah, sorry. I just figured you'd want to, dunno, warm up a bit."

Louis gently pushed him back on the bed, lips curling up at the ends.

"Do you need warming up?"

Harry didn't break eye contact as he palmed himself through his jeans, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

"I'm semi-interested."

Louis placed his fingers on Harry's belt buckle, raising his eyebrows.

"May I?"

Harry nodded, sliding his right hand behind his head, his left hand stroking the duvet at his side. Louis undid the buckle and left the leather flared open. He unbuttoned the single button, then lowered his zip. He slid his hand inside.

“Can I try a few things?”

“Sure,” Harry said, giggling amusedly. He spread his legs a bit and lifted his bum up, Louis tugging just his jeans down his thighs. “Have fun.”

Louis squeezed him through his black boxer briefs, eyes trained on his bulge. 

“Feels pretty normal.”

“God willing.”

Louis snorted, shooting Harry a little smile.

“I just meant compared to someone cut.”

“Is that why you're doing this?”

“Yeah,” Louis said, rubbing his hand harder, deeper. After half a minute of Louis massaging him through his pants, nothing but the sliding of fabric and skin filling the room, Harry's left leg twitched. The muscles of his lower stomach shuddered underneath his rumpled tee. “This good?”

“Yeah,” Harry's voice said at a dropped tone. His eyes were torn between watching Louis' rubbing hands and his concentrated face, his lips pursed forward in a determined pout. “Feels good.”

“Cool.”

Louis leaned down and mouthed him through his pants, his thumbs rubbing his hips, mouth sucking wet bites along his length. Harry's hips snapped back for a split second. Then he relaxed, his hand clenching in the duvet.

“Really good,” he said on a laugh, Louis' eyes twinkling up at him with his hand still jerking him through his pants. “You've never done anything with uncut before?”

Louis gently pulled Harry's boxer briefs down, his cock swaying to the left once released. Harry didn't seem to mind his cock being out in front of a stranger; Louis respected that. He licked his lips, reaching out for him. 

“A couple of times.”

“So what's the--”

Louis' thumb swiped over his wet head, his other hand experimenting with holding his foreskin down. The skin was so soft, Harry's cock turning a flushed shade of rose once the skin was pulled back.

“-problem,” Harry exhaled, letting his eyes shut. 

“Not so much a problem, as I felt like learning the ropes. Just incase someone was to come along.”

Harry's eyes fluttered open, sitting up on his elbows.

“So, there's a guy in mind?”

“Sort of? But no, not really. It's...It's a long story.” He felt concern radiating off of Harry, practically able to feel it through his cock. “I'm single.”

Harry hummed, “Cool,” Louis' lips sucking on the head of his cock. He smiled and flattened on his back again, relaxing his spread legs. “So far, you're doing an excellent job.”

He felt vibrations from Louis chuckling, his mouth opening wider and more of his cock sliding into his impossibly hot mouth. Louis sucked him a few times, letting his cock pop out of his shining lips. He held his foreskin down, alternating between jerking him and sucking him. Harry kept humming these quiet, low, throaty moans that wouldn't pierce the walls of his bedroom, but also wouldn't leave the inside of his head.

Louis pulled back, watching his hand as he jerked Harry's rock hard length. He grabbed the lube.

“Mind if I use it?”

“Be my guest.”

Louis drizzled just a bit on Harry's cock, his hand never missing a beat. The added slickness made Harry shift his legs, his arms reaching for the headboard before settling back at his sides.

“Fuck yes,” Harry murmured, gripping the blue duvet and grinding his hips up.

As Louis replaced the capped lube on his bed, he got a good look at Harry's body. His flat stomach was muscled, but not overly so. His arms, long enough to reach easily on top of the fridge, had lines of sinewy muscles, his sharp collarbones peeking out the neckline of his shirt. His face, all high cheekbones and bitten lips, was starting to flush, a thin sheen of sweat settling on his elegant neck. 

“Do you trim?” Louis asked, his hand still moving.

Harry looked at him wide eyed, his confused gaze alternating between his slick cock and Louis calm face.

“What?”

“Here,” Louis said, thumbing the skin at the base of his cock. The hair of his groin was deep brown, but fairly light in texture. “Trim?”

“Oh, uh, no.”

Louis other fingers smoothed over his groin, tracing the crease of his thigh. He could smell Harry sweating slightly, but he smelled more sweet and soapy than anything.

“It's nice.”

“Thank you.”

"Do you prefer if someone holds it down the whole time, or what?"

"Um," Harry bit his bottom lip, eyes scanning the ceiling, "I dunno. Doesn't really matter so much to me."

“You're big.”

“Th-Thanks.”

Louis started sucking again and let go of his foreskin, his head bobbing faster, hands planted on Harry's hips. Harry hummed and squirmed ever so slightly, his lower back bursting with heat that radiated through to his belly. He glanced at the alarm clock and realized they'd been at it for fourteen minutes. For a moment, he was proud that so far, everything had gone well. Really well. Then Louis gently dragged his bottom teeth along the bump under his cock.

He opened his mouth to warn Louis, but then his cock popped out from his lips, Louis hand stroking him slowly.

“Do you feel like you have better stamina because you're uncut?”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

“More sensitive?”

“Um, poss--” Harry's response cut off, Louis' lips back on his cock again. Harry's furrowed brows and agape mouth froze, his eyes glued to Louis head bobbing faster and faster. “It's,” he inhaled quickly, spitting words out, “it's getting hard to answer questions because you're really fucking good at that. I have no idea why you feel that you need practice.”

Louis smiled, Harry's cock slipping out the side of his lips.

“I'm a perfectionist, I guess.”

He slid his hand between Harry's legs.

“Ah, Jesus,” Harry said quickly and bucked up, Louis snickering and massaging his balls. “S-Sorry, just, uh,” his face felt on fire, while Louis just smiled at him, cool as a cucumber, “those _are_ sensitive.”

“Couldn't neglect them, hm?”

Harry's eyes rolled back in his head, Louis sucking him fast and hard, his thumb rubbing slow circles over each ball.

“Louis,” he moaned, biting both of his lips, turning his head to the side. He shimmied a bit, his jeans getting stuck on the sweaty skin behind his knees. “I'm...I'm gonna come soon, if you want to stop. I can--” He forgot to breathe, the head of his cock bumping the back of Louis throat. When Louis sucked and pulled his head back, Harry gasped a breath in. “I can finish myself, if--”

“No way,” Louis said, tongue darting out to lick at his slit. He tongued over the salty skin, more drops disintegrating on his tongue by the second. “Perfectionist, remember?”

Harry studied him, his mouth open and his eyes wide. 

“Perfect perfectionist,” he said, his voice tapering to a moan, Louis back to sucking him. 

He lifted his hand, carding his fingers through the side of Louis' hair. He bit his bottom lip and removed his hand, clenching it in the duvet again.

Louis hummed and wrapped his free hand around Harry's hand, lifting it and putting it back on his head. Harry scratched his scalp and gripped his soft hair, his arm swaying slightly with each bob of his Louis' head. His thighs flexed under Louis' weight, his hand guiding Louis' rhythm faster.

“Gonna come.”

Louis hummed again and tightened his lips, swirling his tongue around Harry's head.

Harry arched his lower back and shot hot into his mouth, his skin pushing out drops of sweat and invisible fireworks over every inch of him, his eyes clenched shut. Louis pulled his mouth off almost completely, sucking his head with gentle, lazy pulls, rubbing his hand over Harry's lower belly.

Harry's body relaxed, his stomach rising and falling beneath Louis' warm palm. He hissed quietly once Louis stopped sucking, air hitting his wet cock. Louis kept rubbing his stomach and hips, massaging the exposed skin of his thighs. Harry took a deep breath in, laughing it out.

“Alright, then.”

Louis smiled and rolled to the side, Harry tucking himself in and redoing his jeans. He peered up at Harry, who was staring at him, his cheeks rosy and his eyes sleepy.

"Can I blow you, too?"

The taste of Harry was still tangy on his tongue. In real life, he would politely decline and usher Harry out of the bedroom. However, he knew Harry was clean. He knew Harry was hot. He couldn't pretend that he wasn't attracted to him. The blow job was for research purposes, but that's not to say he wasn't human and didn't enjoy the heavy cock of an attractive male in his mouth, body writhing beneath him.

And he couldn't deny the pull in his lower belly at the though of Harry wrapping those sweet pink lips around his cock and swallowing him whole until his voice was even deeper and raspier than it naturally seemed to be.

"Sure," Louis said brightly, propping himself up on a pillow. He tucked his hands behind his head, crossing his ankles. "Knock yourself out."

Harry grinned down at him and nudged their foreheads together before sinking lower on his body. He nipped at Louis' neck.

"Cheers."

Harry nudged his nose against his chest, then his stomach, his hands slipping underneath the waistband of his jeans. Louis shifted his head on the pillow, the tiny patch of skin Harry nipped already tingling. Harry undid his jeans, slouching them down his hips until they were mid-thigh. He gripped Louis through his pale blue boxers, eyes flicking up to him. Louis swallowed dryly and took a long breath in through his nose, his big toes folding over towards his other toes. 

“It appears you're a bit worked up,” Harry said, sounding pleased.

Louis rolled his eyes, though he couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face when he saw Harry's little smirk. 

“I thought you were blowing me?”

“Ooh, bossy.” Harry dropped a kiss on his hipbone. “I like it.”

He pulled Louis' boxers down, light shining from his eyes as if he'd just opened a treasure chest. 

“You've got a pretty cock,” he said, wrapping his large hand around the base. He was cut, not terribly veiny, smooth, and thicker than Harry expected. “Really lovely.” 

“Thanks, man,” Louis giggled, kicking his jeans to the bottom of the bed. Harry took the hint and pushed Louis' boxers down all the way. He spread his legs and scooted his arse closer to Harry, Harry's eyes swaying side to side to follow his dick. “That's better.”

Soft fingers walked up his inner thighs, a laugh threatening to burst out of Louis' lips.

“You like being naked?”

“I do,” Louis said.

He smoothed his thumb up the throbbing vein running along the bottom, leaning down and licking his hand. He ducked his face down to hide his smile, Louis breathing faster when Harry licked his hand again. He started jerking him, full lips brushing his head. Finally, he opened his mouth, sucking Louis inside. 

Louis smiled up at the ceiling with half closed eyes, his arms relaxing over his head. He moaned softly while Harry slurped, his full lips tight as a vice as he took more and more inside his mouth. He opened his eyes and saw Harry's back muscles fluttering under his tee, the curls on top of his head extra bouncy. He flattened his feet on the bed and started to lift himself slightly into Harry's sucks, his legs parallel Vs on either side of Harry.

Harry stopped for a second and knelt on the bed. He pulled his tee off from the middle of his shoulder blades.

“'M getting sweaty.” He folded the material in half and placed it on the bed. Louis blinked at his torso, eyes skittering from nipple to nipple to navel to abs. Harry waved his hand in front of Louis' face, laughing. “This okay?”

“Y-Yeah, sure.”

Harry laughed again, softer.

“Cool. I like getting naked, too.”

He leaned down, Louis now able to see his back ripple as he sucked and sucked and sucked. Harry's hands slid up the sides of his striped tee, fingernails scratching over his ribs. Louis inhaled sharply and bucked into him, Harry smiling around his cock. Then Harry's fingers were on his chest, thumbs ghosting over his nipples.

“Fuck,” Louis whispered, chest lifting towards Harry's touch, his chin tilting towards the ceiling.

Harry hummed and thumbed his nipples again, firmer and slower, his long fingers spread over the sensitive skin of his sides. He wanted to pull off and tell Louis that he was hard in his jeans again because Louis was starting to lose it, his confident, smooth style when Harry was receiving so different from the pliant Louis who so easily received pleasure. He was still confident and still smooth, but he gave himself over to it all, and Harry was starting to rut against the bed.

“You're hard again?”

Harry looked up at Louis. He had read his mind. He nodded, sucking almost to the base of his cock.

“Take your pants off.”

Harry licked his head, confusion wrinkling his face.

“Why?”

Louis pulled his shirt off from his belly and smiled at him, his face glowing and his hair mussed.

“I don't remember ever sixty-nineing with someone uncut before, so you can tick another box.”

Harry did not require further instructions. He pushed his jeans and pants off, kicking them off the bed.

“Socks, too.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, pulling one sock off and tossing it on the floor. Louis shrugged.

“It ruins the line of your legs during sex.”

Harry threw his other sock at Louis' face. 

“Hey,” Louis laughed, swatting it away, and turned on his side. He reached down and grabbed Harry's hips, tugging so they were sideways facing each other, but at opposite ends of the bed. “Get up here.” 

Harry shifted on the bed, his bare feet pressed against Louis' simple lightwood headboard. Louis moved closer, his hand already pulling Harry's foreskin down, breathing in the smell of his warm skin. He shuddered a breath out when Harry started to suck him again, his mouth faltering. He felt Harry's chuckle around his cock and narrowed his eyes down at him, Harry smirking with his cheek pushed out. Louis gripped his balls and sucked his head into his mouth, Harry's smirk fading and a moan sounding against his skin, his eyes rolling back.

Just before Louis came, he wondered if Liam had stayed in his room the entire time their single experimental blow job somehow morphed into both of them writhing on the bed together, sucking and slurping and moaning like a well oiled machine. Then Harry gripped his arse with both of his big hands and pushed him deep into his throat, and everything went a bit blurry after that.

He came back to earth and heard Harry's soft breathing, his feet limp against the headboard. Louis rolled onto his back, his stomach curving out with each quick breath.

He tilted his head towards Harry, who was smirking at him.

"Well,” he said, letting the word linger. “This was far more successful than I thought it would be."

"Yeah, this was, uh," Harry chuckled, "pretty good."

Louis laughed softly and rolled upwards, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He pulled his shirt over his head, able to hear Harry shifting around behind him. He bent over to get his boxers, lifting his hips to pull them on, followed by his jeans. The bed lulled, Harry's socked feet sliding near silent on the floor.

"Why did you answer my ad?"

Harry sat down on the bed next to Louis, unzipping the side of his suede boot. He smiled, pushing his foot inside.

"It sounds weird, but a client of mine told me I should look on there. She said she saw a missed connection that sounded like someone talking about me."

Louis' jaw dropped.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah," Harry laughed, putting on his other boot. “So, I was on missed connections, then got distracted and wandered into the men for men section. I'd never gone there before.” He zipped it up and placed his feet on the ground. He stood to his full height and faced Louis, stretching his arms over his head. "I also had good luck getting a coffee table on there for free, so…You know." He shrugged one shoulder and winked, Louis rolling his eyes. "Free Craigslist has done me good, so far."

He walked to the bedroom door, Louis following him.

"Wait, so, was the connection you?"

"Oh.” Harry turned, his cheeks flushed pink. “Yeah, it was. A woman who comes in on Mondays and Fridays to buy pastries for her office. She thought we vibed. Weird, right? It happens, though.”

“Like,” Louis' lips twitched higher, his head tilting, “often?”

Harry itched the back of his head, his bicep fluttering mere inches from Louis' face. The sleeve of his black tee inched up on his arm, more smooth skin and a tender dip dusted by soft looking hair.

“Yeah. I see a lot of people regularly at the bakery and I guess I sort of, uh,” he chuckled softly, looking down at the floor for a beat, “flirt with them?” He lifted his face, his eyes squinted, Louis laughing. “I don't mean to, I think I just, I say things in a way and people think I'm hitting on them.”

Louis went to open the door, saying, “Sounds like it's a reoccurring issue,” and turning the knob.

“Sort of. Hey,” Harry said softer, pushing the bedroom door shut. Louis peered up at him, curious blue eyes studying his face. Harry offered him another glowing grin, his fingers pushing his hair off his face. “Erm, so, if this is a bizarre thing to say, just tell me and I'll go on my way.” He twirled a piece near the back of his head. “I completely understand your boundaries and rules and that this is just a one time thing.”

“Ooh, this sounds like it'll be amusing,” Louis said, steepling his fingers together.

Harry smiled, his bicep rounding and his body hunching closer to Louis.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Well?” Louis tapped his bare foot on the ground, sighing dramatically. “You have a question?”

“Do you like having your arse played with?”

“Yes,” Louis answered without even a lick of shyness. “Why?”

Harry bit his smiling bottom lip and shook his head.

“You're so chill.”

Louis gestured between them with his right hand. 

“I feel a weird sort of easiness with you, knowing that you're clean and hung and hot.”

Harry's eyes widened.

“I feel like the exact same thing with you. You just verbalized it perfectly.”

They shared a smile, along with a few seconds of comfortable silence. Shuffling carried through the door, followed by the kitchen sink turning on. Louis blinked rapidly, breaking Harry's warm gaze.

“Alright, so my arse?”

“Oh! Right, yeah, so...” Harry smiled, hair wilting forward in one big curly mop. His eyes trailed downwards. “I really like that. Arse play. And I think a certain sort of trust needs to be involved in it, but I really like it.”

“Giving or receiving?”

“Both,” Harry said, seemingly on the brink of laughter. “But I rather like giving, though a lot of guys are not so into it, for whatever reason.”

Louis crossed his arms over his chest, leaning his shoulder on the closed door.

“What planet did you come from?”

Harry thought for a moment, his eyes rolling towards the ceiling.

“Planet Horny?”

That got a giggle out of Louis, his body leaning into Harry, who laughed along with him.

“Do you wanna play with my arse sometime?”

“I mean,” Harry's nose wrinkled, an embarrassed smile crinkling his cheeks, “is that a weird request?”

“No, not at all, considering how we know each other.”

“You have a hot arse.”

Louis' eyes crinkled with a smile.

“Why, thank you! How thoughtful of you to say.”

“And the smell of you is just,” Harry bit on his thumb, perfect teeth smiling around it, “I'm going to stop talking now.”

“Flattery will get you most places.”

“Including your arse?”

Louis sighed and pinched his cheek.

“How could I ever deny this face the opportunity to be buried in my arse?”

Harry smiled wide, Louis' finger bumping into his dimple.

“Cool. I appreciate it. When are you free next?”

“Erm, weekdays are kind of tricky for me. Work and all.” Louis picked his iPhone up off his dresser, scrolling with his index finger. “I've got time next Saturday morning, if you're free.”

“Uh, I'll probably have to be at the bakery at least until the brunch crowd clears, then will have to run home to clean up.”

“Love brunch,” Louis remarked, scrolling lower. “Shall we say around three, then? You're giving me an excuse to sleep in. Just text me whenever you're on your way.”

“Yeah, if that works for you?”

“Sure.”

“I can bring muffins.”

“Muffins?”

“Yeah. I end up with so many sweets at my place from work.”

“Muffins to a Craigslist rimjob,” Louis said, grinning so suddenly his eyes nearly shut. He could feel Harry smiling at him. He tapped the phone once and then looked at him, smiling softer. “Perfect.”

Harry peeked over the top of his iPhone.

“Did you put me into your iCal?”

“Yeah, of course,” Louis said, flipping the screen around. “Now,” he pursed his lips, squinting a smile and shifting his hip once. “What Emoji should I use for the occasion?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from my favorite Tegan and Sara song, [ Relief Next To Me ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yftgnkdan8%20)
> 
> Come say hello on [ LJ](http://dolce-piccante.livejournal.com) and [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com) :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit of talking in this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for bookmarking and commenting! Always much appreciated and am so happy people are enjoying it! :D 
> 
> I used bold and italic to differentiate between texts in conversation, and hopefully that isn't hard to follow!
> 
> Thanks as always to [Jess](whitechimes.tumblr.com) and sweet D. Enjoy!

That night, Louis decided to go to a late hot yoga class, one scheduled at a time he'd never attended before. He had already cleaned his room and their communal living spaces, along with getting all his laundry done for the week. He couldn't shake his sweatiness after Harry left; why not push that semi-sweatiness into being drenched? Especially when his work schedule usually didn't allow him to get yoga in two days in a row.

He walked into the studio and saw someone with long legs and a small arse clad in tight black yoga pants, which led to a full head of wavy hair. His heart sped up as he toed his shoes off at the door.

Then the person turned, and Louis could see that he was not Harry. Harry did not have a grizzly bear beard, nor did he have a nose ring and chunky brown glasses. How could someone comfortably do hot yoga with a beard all over their face? And he didn't even know if Harry did yoga, let alone at his home studio.

He stretched and breathed and sweat out what felt like a gallon of liquid until his white tee was sticking to his torso. Skin started to appear through the wet material. While he was in Fixed Firm Pose, his arms clasped above his head on the mat and his body curved backwards like a pretzel, his brain wandered back to the idea of Harry doing yoga. His muscles all seemed to relax at once, an easy, pleasant burn stretching along the tops of his thighs and front of his hips. He bit his lip and breathed through his nose.

“Very nice,” the instructor said softly, her bare feet padding next to Louis' mat.

He exhaled, willing the air rushing out of his mouth to blow away any big, smiling distractions.

Ignoring any big, smiling distractions was shot to shit when he walked into his flat. Before he could say hello to Zayn and Liam, they pounced on him, sweet sugar breath assaulting his nostrils.

“Jesus, did you try these?” Zayn asked, cookie crumbling down his chin. He bit again, Liam groaning into a bite next to him. “Try the shortbread with raspberry jam. Fucking outrageous.”

“They're like cookie crack.” Liam licked his thumb and grabbed another cookie with his other hand. “So bloody buttery.”

Zayn held the box out to Louis. The lid flopped open, revealing only a handful of half cookies amongst the crumbs.

“Where'd you get these? C'mon, eat one. Fucking fuck, they're amazing.”

“And you complain about my coffee being too sweet,” Liam said, stealing the last bite out of Zayn's fingers.

Louis giggled and took one of the shortbread cookies, turning it over in his hand and eying the shimmer of raspberry jam running through it.

“Harry brought them over for our CD exchange.”

Liam laughed and choked on his cookie, Zayn slapping him on the back with his eyes still on Louis.

“Since when do you exchange CDs?”

“We did it on earlier today when you were out.”

“Aw, shit, man.” Zayn pouted, cookie crumbs on his right eyebrow. “I would have done it with you! I want in next time!”

Liam choked again, Louis spitting crumbs in both of their faces.

. . .

That week at work, Zayn and Louis were assigned to a high-end fragrance campaign. Half their time was spent in a warehouse in Brixton for a series of photo shoots. While a photographer snapped away at lounging models, Zayn worked his magic on the romantic, flowing, silk covered bed at the center of the shoot, along with any other props or design elements. Louis kept an eye on color and line, collaborating with the photographer to get the perfect shot.

The other half of their time was spent in the office, getting into whatever mischief they could. It was a stroke of luck when Louis and Zayn were scouted by the hiring manager at Simone at the same time. They even started on the exact same day. They bonded over their love of the free healthy snacks and the lack of a dress code.

“Oi, put your shoes on and get your coat.”

Louis looked up from his computer, his hand still moving his mouse and clicking.

“Why?”

Zayn pushed his right arm into the sleeve of his black leather jacket, the buttery material wilting around his lean body.

“Boss dinner.”

Louis' eyebrows rose. He clicked two times. The light of his monitor faded from his face.

“Say no more.”

He slipped his feet into his black Toms under his desk. His toes wiggled into the cushion insert along the soles of his shoes. He walked quickly to grab his dark red beanie and black peacoat. He wrapped a black scarf around his neck, Zayn buttoning his coat up while he arranged his hair inside the beanie.

“What's the occasion?”

“The board loved the mock ups we did for Gucci and Simon will be out of the office for a couple of weeks. Wanted to catch up with us.”

Louis dimmed the lights of his glass walled office, pulling the door shut behind them. It was set not to shut hard, but to float closed and click shut silently. Only the best at Simone, though it made for some less than dramatic door slam moments.

“Where are they taking us?”

“Fino.”

“Holy shit,” Louis said, laughing. He rubbed his stomach. “I guess they really liked the mock ups.”

Zayn elbowed him in the ribs, then threw his arm around Louis' shoulder.

“Best in the biz, we are.”

. . .

Whenever the bosses decided to throw a dinner, employees dropped any other plans to get to whatever expensive restaurant they decided to rent out for the night. One employee was a legend for attending a boss dinner at Le Gavroche before physically running to the hospital, where his wife was giving birth to their first child.

Louis and Zayn walked into Fino with a group of other Simone employees, including a graphic designer named Jake, two administrative assistants named Lee and Sarah, a guy from finance named Kyle, and their boss himself, Simon. It was that kind of company, where everyone worked in an airy, glass walled office with open communication between all levels of seniority.

They were all led to a private dining room where most of the other Simone employees were milling, drinks in hand, tapas beginning to flow out from the kitchen. Louis and Zayn made a beeline for the open bar.

“I wonder if they'll email us about a delayed opening tomorrow,” Zayn said, leaning his elbows on the bar.

Louis looked over his shoulder at Simon laughing heartily with the rest of the board, ice cubes clinking in his full glass of scotch. He smiled across the bar at the gentleman bartender.

“What do you think? Will we have a delayed opening tomorrow?”

The bartender smiled as he handed Louis his beer.

“I'll do my best.”

. . .

Zayn squeezed Louis' shoulder, murmuring, “Simon switched to wine. Mixing scotch and wine? We're totally having a delayed opening tomorrow.”

Louis smiled into his third beer, nearby designers all snickering while finishing up their dinners.

Like clockwork, Alexis, one of the board members, raised her glass of champagne and declared, “Let's open at ten tomorrow, yes?” She adjusted her white silk scarf, diamonds flashing on her fingers. “Is there anything on the schedule, Suz?”

Suzi the receptionist grinned and shook her head.

“No. Nothing until after lunch.”

Louis and Zayn met eyes, Zayn downing the rest of his scotch while giving him a discreet thumbs up under the table.

. . .

“I swear to God, if I have to smell that perfume again, I think I'll vomit.”

“I think it's rather good!”

“It's not a question of good, it's a question of quantity. I think I've got it running through my veins at this point.”

Louis swiped his fork through the sauce underneath his steak and sucked on the prongs. He smiled along with the chatter of his area of the table. The subject changed from the shoot environment to the models themselves.

“She's fit. Please. Give me a fucking break.”

“Not my type, mate, not my type,” Zayn's voice filtered into the conversation.

“Why's that?”

“Um, because she doesn't have a dick?” He hissed between his back teeth, a gulp of scotch burning his throat. “And Liam has quite a lovely one, at that.”

Louis laughed loudly into his pint glass, his half-moon eyes meeting with Zayn's giggling face.

“Speaking of dick,” Suzi said, barely an inch of martini left in her glass. “What about Frances? Talk about a full basket.”

There were hums around the table. The quiet in conversation attracted the attention of the far end of the table.

“He's hot as hell,” an intern, Janet, said louder than she meant, her wide eyes darting to Simon. She let go of her wine glass as if it was on fire. “I mean,” she cleared her throat, her face bright red, “he's--he's--”

“A lovely male specimen,” Simon said, smiling at her. He slung his arm around his wife, Simone, and pulled her closer. “Simone sent me quite a few photos from the shoot.”

Simone sipped her champagne, sharing a small smile with her husband.

“Yes, he is quite attractive.” She placed her empty glass on the table, a waiter already placing a fresh glass of bubbly in front of her. “However,” she lifted her glass, “Frances only had eyes for one Simone-er at the shoot.”

It took Louis three chews and a swallow of his last bite before he realized the entire table (and office) was staring at him, a rainbow of smirks shot in his direction. He dabbed his mouth with his napkin and smiled back at them, moving just his eyes to Zayn.

“What's everyone looking at me for?” he whispered through his clenched teeth.

“Frances,” Zayn whispered in the same frozen smile way.

Louis looked across the long table in their private room, Simon swirling his wine glass with an amused little smile curling his lips.

“Heard you made quite an impression on him,” Simon said, tipping his glass, the table starting to laugh. Louis laughed along with them, though inside he felt like a lava person, his molten center exposed through his blushing cheeks as a prelude to what would surely be his entire body melting under the expensive tablecloth. “Well done, L. Well done. We should have you around more photo shoots if you can get the models to behave.”

“I was just doing my job.”

Simon lifted his glass, the rest of the table lifting their glasses in unison. The company loved a good toast.

“And an excellent job, at that.”

“Don't be shy, Louis,” Simone said from across the table. “Use your allure to your advantage. How do you think I got this one,” she tilted her head towards Simon, “to add an E to the name of the firm?”

The employees all laughed, Simon rolling his eyes with a good-natured smile. He kissed his wife's hand, both murmuring something quietly to each other.

“He already had his manager send over a fruit basket for all of the assistance he received at the shoot,” Suzi, the receptionist, added, fluttering her eyelashes at Louis. “He might have given you a shoutout in the note.”

Louis smiled and ran his hand through his hair, ruffling the front and swiping his fingers upwards.

“How do I have no recollection of him being interested in me?”

“Blissfully unaware,” Zayn said, pinching his cheek.

Louis laughed along with everyone.

“We were just talking a bit.”

“You give good banter,” Lee, an administrative assistant, said, his fellow administrative assistant Sarah nodding along with him. “It's intoxicating.”

Sarah added, “I had a crush on you my entire first month at Simone.”

Louis' eyes widened, another loud laugh ripped from his throat, the workers around him bursting out laughing.

“What!?”

“It's true,” Lee said through his giggles, nodding and wiping his eyes. “It's all I had to listen to in our office.”

“Wow, I had no idea,” Louis said, holding his plate up for the waitress. He gripped his beer, sipping the last foamy gulp. “Anyone else?”

The employees around their end of the table all looked at each other. Slowly, five people raised their hands. As if that wasn't shocking enough, Zayn giggled loudly and waggled his fingers at Louis. Louis' eyes nearly popped out of his head, his mouth agape.

“Are you fucking kidding me!?”

“I couldn't help it!” Zayn said on a laugh, holding his palms out towards Louis. “You made me laugh at orientation and helped me with my hair. I swear, it lasted only a day.”

Louis held up his empty glass, accepting a fresh beer.

“I'm now going to question how I apparently banter with everyone in my life.”

“It's sexy banter,” Lee said, putting his hand on Louis' shoulder. “Don't change. It's part of your charm.”

“Did you have a crush on me, too?”

“No, sadly, I did not. Straight as an arrow. Though I sort of wish I did.” He squeezed once. “You've got such an elegant way with shapes. I feel a little left out now.”

Louis gulped his beer. Dessert menus were placed in front of each employee.

“Sir, would you like coffee or tea with dessert?”

He looked up at the waitress and smiled.

“Can you put something boozy in the coffee? Something very, very boozy?”

“Certainly,” she said, nodding and smirking at him. “Coming up.”

He nodded his thanks, shifting in his seat. All the talk of Frances, who was a lovely blond human muscle machine but dull as the fat-free crackers they kept on set, made him think of models rolling around in bed. That made him think of his bed, and the last person he had on it.

He pulled out his phone, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He unlocked it and opened a text.

_hi, what are you up to?_

He placed his phone face down on the top of his thigh and perused the dessert menu, tapping his thumbs against the crisp cream card stock. His leg vibrated.

**burger and a pint with some friends. want to join? :)**

He smiled down at his lap, the dessert menu forgotten.

_at a work dinner thing, but thx for the offer! another time maybe._

**where are you eating?**

_fino_

**well, well, well! posh thursday!**

He had to bite the inside of his cheek not to laugh aloud. Harry had used almost every food Emoji in that single text, though he wasn't sure if Fino offered fried eggs or ramen noodles. He picked up the dessert menu and snapped a photo.

_boss is generous for sure! any dessert suggestions?_

**yesss please get the caramel one. fucking amazing, i promise**

Louis hid his phone against his leg and handed the waitress his menu, smiling and saying, “I'll take the caramel mousse, please.”

_done._

**yumyum....eat up, lucky boy**

_thx for your help!_

**you can thank me saturday**

Harry had included an Emoji of a calendar plus two confetti exploding.

Louis swallowed once, reread the text (and chosen Emoji), then leaned into Zayn.

“Liam's at yours tonight, yeah?”

“Mmhmm. He had a client closer to my flat and said he was exhausted after work.” Zayn spooned something creamy and covered with chocolate shavings into his mouth. “He fell asleep already, the old fart.”

“Cool.”

He picked up his phone again.

_or i could thank you tonight...just a little thank you. i'd even be willing to share leftover dessert_

He added an Emoji of what he thought was crème brulee before sending the text. He pulled his shirt away from his chest, fanning his neck.

“Fucking Emoji,” he whispered to himself, then sat back and smiled up at the waitress, his dessert placed in front of him. With his normal voice, he said, “Thanks so much.”

Zayn murmured, “Aw, so polite,” quietly near his ear, the rush of air tickling his earlobe. His breath smelled like spicy chocolate, a mix of dessert and his drink, his stubble making Louis giggle and gently shove his face away. “Your phone, mate.”

Louis watched his facedown phone buzz across the table. He picked it up with delicate fingers, swiping his finger over Harry's next text. There were no words, just three Emoji thumbs up. He grinned down at the screen, Harry's next message coming through.

**will be done here in about an hour. yours or mine?**

. . .

Louis ran up the steps of his building, fumbling to get his keys out. Boss dinners were fantastic, but if you got caught in a conversation with a boss at the end of the night, it was almost impossible to pull away from the person who just dropped hundreds of pounds for you to eat, drink, and be merry.

His breath created puffs of uneven steam in front of his face. His key got caught in the yarn of his mittens, cold metal prodding between his fingers.

“Hey.”

He froze with the key just about in the door. He turned towards Harry, who was smiling up at him from the bottom step, his hands in the pockets of his long black jacket.

“Hey,” Louis exhaled, holding his hand over his chest. “Sorry, I ran here from the tube. I didn't want to keep you waiting. It's freezing out.”

“It's alright.” He took the stone steps two at a time. The sight of his long legs bending was more distracting than the fact that Louis' heart was beating out of his chest. “I just got here.”

Louis unlocked the door, using his hip to shove it open.

“C'mon in.” He spotted a plain white bag in Harry's left hand. “What's that?” He smiled up at him. “More cookies?”

“Nope, sorry, just leftover chips. I'd possibly be willing to share.”

Louis held up a bag of his own as they started walking.

“Dessert, as promised.”

Harry's eyes lit up, a smile stretching across his face.

“Did you like it?”

“Yeah, I did, actually.” He cradled the bag in his arms. “I'm not much of a sweets person, but I do like caramel, so it was really good.”

“Not a sweets person?” Harry gasped and leaned into the wall, wilting and letting out a quiet sob. “You've just insulted my entire career.”

Louis laughed and unlocked the door to his flat. He flicked the lights on.

“No offense, I swear! I'm more of a bread and cheese person. I don't even like chocolate, really.” He placed his bag on the kitchen table. “Those cookies you brought were great, though. My roommate and his boyfriend inhaled them. You should tell your boss that he or she is really gifted with sugar.” He shrugged his coat off and folded it over one of the simple light wooden chairs, missing Harry's smile that nearly burst into a laugh. He held his hands out to Harry. “May I take your coat?” His eyes flickered to the bag in his hands. “Want to stick that in the fridge while you're here?”

Harry dropped the bag next to his dessert and smiled, nodding, “Yeah, thanks.” He handed him his coat, then picked up Louis' bag. “I'll put this in, as well.”

“Cheers.”

Louis slipped his shoes off and kicked them under the table.

“Oh my God, your poor toes,” Harry said, shutting the fridge with his bum. He looked like he was about three seconds from dropping to his knees and blowing warm air onto Louis' toes. It wasn't a terrible image. “How are you not freezing?”

Louis chuckled and rolled the ball of his foot over the floor, stretching the front of his ankle.

“I hate socks and luckily my feet are usually pretty toasty on their own.”

“Lucky.” Harry walked up to him. Louis noticed that Harry's hair was taller, the flat front of it higher than the first time they met. “My feet freeze when I sleep.”

Louis' fingers tucked inside the waistband of his jeans, pulling him closer. He spun Harry until his bum bumped the kitchen table.

“Ugh, I bet you hog the covers, too.”

Harry giggled and shook his head, Louis running his nose along the side of his neck. He'd been around perfume all week, but there was something about the smell of Harry that seemed unique; not able to be recreated.

“Nope. I'm a very fair person when it comes to that.” He smiled and let his head tilt to the side, Louis sucking an open-mouthed kiss to his collarbone. He hummed softly, his arms wrapping around Louis' arse. “The rest of me is warm.”

“Hot,” Louis said, the quiet correction making Harry giggle again.

Harry lowered his face, their lips almost brushing. Louis ducked down as he unbuckled his belt, smirking at Harry's face leaning down to him. He sank to his knees, Harry's hands bracing himself on the kitchen table. When he looked up at Harry with his best bedroom eyes all prepped and ready to go, his sly smile faded. Harry was watching him while holding his hand over his open mouth, his eyes drooping.

“My apologies,” he stood up, his face at about Harry's Adam's apple, “am I boring you?”

“Sorry,” Harry laughed through another yawn, holding his fist up to his lips. He smiled, blinking and rubbing his hand over his stomach. “I'm usually in bed by now because I'm at the bakery so early. And fuck,” he smiled wide, “you can turn on an icy stare at the drop of a hat, hm?”

“Oh, I'm,” he blinked and shook his head, smiling and nudging his forehead into Harry's shoulder, “I'm sorry, I didn't know not to text after a certain--”

“No, no,” Harry softly interrupted, squeezing Louis' outer bicep. His hand wrapped more than halfway around his arm. “I'm really glad you texted. I can survive a later bedtime,” he thumbed the side of his neck, “I promise.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah.” His dimples popped out. “I _might_ have gotten hard when I saw your text.”

Louis smiled through the flush of hot pride that whizzed around his chest.

“Quite awkward when trying to eat a burger among mates.”

“You're telling me.”

“Planet Horny, hm?”

“Yes, most definitely.” Harry slouched forward, lips attaching to Louis' neck where his thumb formerly was. “How about I get you naked first this time?”

“Who said anything about naked?” Louis prodded the center of Harry's stomach, prompting a breathy laugh against his skin. He smiled and continued, “Maybe I just wanted a quick hand job?”

Harry bit lower, lathing the bite with his tongue, his right hand bunching in the back of Louis' pale maroon sweater.

“I can do that.”

He pushed Louis backwards, Louis laughing and pressed up against the fridge. Harry rubbed him through his black trousers.

“Maybe I won't even take your clothes off at all,” Harry murmured. “I bet you'd just love having to deal with coming in your pants, clean freak.”

Louis tutted his tongue against the top of his mouth and sighed, able to feel Harry smiling in the crook of his neck and shoulder.

“But then you wouldn't take your clothes off.”

“Mmhmm.”

Louis' arms lifted over his head, his sweater placed on the kitchen table. He was left in a thin white v-neck tee, Harry's large hands sliding up his sides, all while his lips pressed and dragged up to the throbbing pulse of his neck.

“You,” Louis said sternly, nudging his hips forward and bumping Harry. “Shirt off. It's only fair.”

Harry chuckled throatily and stepped back. He went to pull his shirt off, then stopped. Louis raised his eyebrows. He looked from Harry's motionless hands to the bottom of his shirt.

“Yes? Is there a problem?”

Harry shifted his weight from foot to foot. He leaned his bum against the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

“I just want to be sure we're both on the same page here.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

There was a pause, two syllables hanging in the air between them.

“I...” Louis stared at him for a beat, brain working to find the perfect word. “Respect that.”

Harry smiled, lopsided like the neckline of his shirt.

“Great. So?”

“I mean,” Louis crossed his arms over his chest, his fingers fluttering against the top of his bicep, “I guess we're just...You know.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Fooling around.”

Quietly, Harry said, “No, I don't want to guess. And no, I don't know.” Louis reached behind himself to grip the counter. Tall, straight forward, gorgeous people made his knees turn to jelly. “That's...That's the reason I'm making a tit of myself right now,” Harry laughed softly, “and asking questions, instead of wrecking you.”

Louis stepped sideways, his arms dropping to his sides and his thumbs looping in his pockets.

“Wow, pretty early to have this conversation, hm?”

“No, no, this is not,” Harry stepped closer, shaking his head, “this is not _that_ conversation. I don't even know how to have that conversation. I'm usually on the receiving end of this conversation that I had no idea was even needed. Like I said, I tend to, uh, attract people?”

“Now you're just bragging,” Louis said, though a smile licked at his lips.

“I don't mean to in that way."

“I'm kidding, I'm kidding.” Relief flashed through Harry's eyes, his shoulders lowering from his ears. Louis buffed his nails against his shirt and sighed. “Though...” He remembered the revealing dinner conversation mere hours earlier. Softer, he said, “I kind of...Understand.” He licked his lips, Harry's warm stare too intense to hold more than three words. “I apparently do that, too. And I...I didn't realize it.”

“Attract.”

“Yes.”

“Right, okay, so I just...I just want to confirm that you're...Unattached.”

The bottom of Louis' throat felt fuzzy, his stomach curling in knots that wouldn't release.

“Why would you--What do you mean?” Louis wrinkled his nose, his eyes shut. “I'm not a cheater. Not at board games," his eyes opened, "which I'm amazing at, by the way, not at tests, and definitely not in relationships.”

Harry let out a breath.

“Okay, cool, yeah, I-I know. I just...I wanted to just clear things up, since, you know. The ad was...” The icy stare was back, Harry hurrying to giggle, “Entertaining! And definitely beneficial. But I just wanted to be sure we both acknowledge and understand that this is friends with benefits. You text me, I text you. You scratch my back, I scratch yours.”

“We're not doing much scratching right now.”

“Oh, shush,” Harry said, shaking his head and smiling at Louis' attempted pout. “Why don't you tell me that long story you mentioned on Sunday.”

“What long story? Long fucking story? Now? What happened to scratching and friends with benefits-ing?”

“About why you posted the ad.” Harry bit his bottom lip, the heel of his hand rubbing the center of his own body. He wet his bottom lip, pushing harder and grinding slightly into his hand. “It's only fair.”

“It's...silly.”

“I don't mind.”

Louis bunched his hand in the center of Harry's chest, smiling up at him.

“Weren't you going to take your clothes off?”

Harry stepped back from him, rolling the bottom of his grey Henley up.

“You talk,” he stroked his fingers over his lower belly, Louis drawn to the soft hair under his navel, “I'll remove.”

“There was a guy at work named Thor,” Louis said quickly, Harry rolling the shirt up to the top of his ribs. Harry nodded, his shirt hovering just below his nipples. “You're the slowest stripper ever.”

Harry made a buzzing sound and lowered his shirt back to his belly button.

“Hey!” Louis laughed, reaching out for him.

Harry grinned and arched backwards, avoiding his swipe.

“That's the rules.”

“Fine! Fine.” Louis took a deep breath, then blew it out. “This is so ridiculous, I can't believe I'm even saying it aloud.”

“Give me enough time with you and you'll be saying lots of things aloud that you never have before.”

“There was a guy named Thor that I worked with all the time,” Louis said, rolling his eyes. “And then he was transferred to Chicago until next January.”

Harry pulled his shirt off, tossing it in Louis face. Louis smiled into the warm smelling fabric and pulled it off, Harry backing into the living room.

“And we were both drunk at the holiday party this year.”

Harry toed off his right boot, kicking it across the floor at Louis. He rested his hands behind his head, raising an eyebrow.

“And?”

“And he mentioned possibly having feelings for me.”

Harry's other boot was kicked across the floor, Harry bending over to shuck his socks off. Louis took in the sight of him in nothing but dark jeans, padding backwards to the couch as if he had the floor plan memorized already. Something about the flex of his abs, specifically the muscles on his upper sides, made Louis bump into the kitchen table.

“And I think I remember him saying that he was uncut.”

Harry laughed, his stomach muscles causing Louis' eyeballs to move like a pinball machine.

“You talked about that at the holiday party?”

“Like I said, we were drunk. Very, very drunk.”

Harry unbuttoned his jeans and lowered the zip. He pushed them lower, hip bones popping out, dark hair and the curve of his base revealed.

“And then what?”

“And then he was transferred for a year. And I thought, well, what if he comes back to England in a year, still likes me, I'm single, but I'm total shit at anything related to foreskin?”

“For the record, you're not.”

“Thanks so much. But do you get it? I'm single.”

Harry smiled and pushed his jeans down, Louis' head tilting to the side. His feet carried him closer to Harry, eyes centered around his middle.

“You criticize me for not wearing socks in winter, yet you free-ball in your jeans?”

“Like I said, chilly feet, hot everything else.”

“Yes,” Louis said wistfully, eyes scanning Harry from head to (chilly) toes. He wanted to kiss his fingers into the air like a cheesy chef proclaiming how delicious his cooking was. “You certainly are hot.”

Instead of getting on the couch, Harry lowered himself to the floor, kneeling on his discarded jeans.

“Wanna watch me wank?” He started to touch himself without Louis' reply, his smile knowing. He pulled his foreskin totally over his head, then squeezed and pulled until his head peeked out. He rubbed his inner thigh with his free hand. “See how I like it?”

Louis twitched in his trousers.

“Jesus Christ.”

Harry grinned and did it again, rubbing his hand firmer over his inner thigh.

“Well?”

Without speaking, Louis pulled his shirt off and unbuttoned his trousers. He lowered them, along with his black boxer briefs, stepping out of the pile of material. Harry's hand continued to jerk himself, his throat bobbing once Louis was within touching distance.Harry only broke their stare to look lower, his mouth opening just a touch and a jagged breath shuddering out of his wet lips. Louis wrapped his hand around himself, matching up with Harry's easy rhythm. Harry's eyes smiled up at him, Louis running his other hand through his hair.

The streetlights outside his living room windows flickered in the background, a reminder that anyone could look inside at any moment.

“Let me know when you're gonna come,” Louis said, slow and quiet, so different from his normal bouncing tone.

Harry gripped his arse with his free hand and pulled him closer, teeth closing around his hip bone. He hummed, lathing the salty sweetness of his skin.

“Why?” He breathed against the wet skin, kissing until he reached the downy hair smattered over Louis' groin. He licked there too, teeth dragging for a bite on the top of his thigh. “Tired of watching?”

Louis guided Harry's mouth to his cock, Harry's head bobbing in time with his own quickening strokes. He sucked him without question, without complaint. He sucked with throaty sounds and full-mouthed slurps, with twists of his lips and confident presses of his tongue.

“Because when you're about to come,” he said ever so softly, fingers lightly tracing behind Harry's right ear. Harry shivered into him. “I'm going to bend over,” his voice dropped to a firm whisper, “and you're going to come all over my perfect arse that you like so much.”

He growled with Louis in his mouth and pulled him down by his hips, Louis falling in a pile of clothes and heat and Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fixed firm pose in mind for Louis](http://www.bikramyogavancouver.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Handsome-Man-doing-Fixed-Firm-Pose_2.jpg%0A)
> 
> [Fino Restaurant](http://finorestaurant.com)
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I know that Simone seems like a fantasy place to work lol but that's what it is, fantasy. If only we all had bosses who treated us to fancy meal and free drinks.
> 
> . . .
> 
> Title is from my favorite Tegan and Sara song, [ Relief Next To Me ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yftgnkdan8%20)
> 
> Come say hello on [ LJ](http://dolce-piccante.livejournal.com) and [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com) :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a shorty. More tomorrow!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Not real, never happened, total fiction. Story belongs to me and should not be reposted anywhere without my written permission. This is all meant to be just silly fun. Also, the internet is a scary place, including Craigslist! Please do not take this fic seriously and be sure to always be safe when using the internet.
> 
> Huge thank you to [Jess](whitechimes.tumblr.com) for her incredible support and help and patience! Also, thank you to my boo D for being a lovely cheerleader!
> 
> I put flashbacks in italics, so hopefully it is clear.
> 
> Enjoy!<3

Liam unlocked the door to his flat and stepped inside, yawning into his shoulder. He toed his trainers off and shut the door as quietly as he could. He turned the lock, yawning again. He picked up his shoes and tiptoed towards his bedroom. He had a client in an hour, but could at least shower and snooze for a power nap.

“Huh.”

He paused at the kitchen. Two take-out containers were ripped open in the center of the table, napkins and utensils strewn about throughout the kitchen. It looked like a mosaic of half chewed chips, smears of ketchup, and blobs of something creamy and tan. A bottle of ketchup was turned over on its side the floor, along with six empty beer bottles under the table in the shape of a smiley face (two bottles as the eyes, four curved into the smile). There was a thick strip in the middle of the table that looked semi-clean, but still had a film of something on it, smears surrounding it.

He hummed, turning in a half circle. The rest of the flat looked normal. Louis' bedroom door was still shut. He checked his watch, panicked, then exhaled and relaxed. Right. Delayed opening. Fancy pants _cool_ company. He remembered teasing a very drunk Zayn about it when he crawled into bed last night, stinking of scotch and begging for a cuddle.

Louis' door creaked open. His body stumbled down the hall with his eyes still nearly shut. Liam smirked at him and put his hands on his hips.

“Young man, did you leave a mess in the kitchen?”

Louis cracked one eye and lurched forward, his arm around his stomach, thin black sweats hanging low on his hips. He held onto the wall as he walked.

“I'll clean it up.”

His voice sounded as rough as it felt coming out of his throat. He went towards the fridge, a bottle of water calling his name. He ripped the plastic top off and let it fall to the ground, his mouth attached to the end as he sucked half in one gulp. He nudged his glasses off his nose while drinking. He gasped and shut the fridge with his hip, leaning into it, his square glasses still off center.

“Fuck,” Louis pinched the bridge of his nose, “I drank a lot last night.”

“And ate too, apparently.” 

Liam picked up a cold chip and lifted it to his lips.

“No, no,” Louis blurted out, surging forward and slapping it out of his hand. 

Liam's mouth remained open, his eyebrows raised, his fingers still poised at his lips. The chip landed with a near silent plop on the floor.

“Um...”

“Just...” Louis cleared his throat, folding his hands in front of him around the sweating bottle. “I had a guest over for a bit last night.”

“Oh,” Liam said, confused. “Alright. So?”

“No, like,” Louis gestured to the messy table, “we were both eating.” His hand made a large circle over the mess covered wood. “All over here. Like we...” His eyes widened. “All over...”

Liam's relaxed smile went wonky, his lips flaring outwards.

“Fuck, gross!” He wiped his hand on his track pants. “I eat there!”

Louis' eyebrows shot up.

“You and Zayn have sex on the couch _all_ the time!”

“But—But still!”

“I said I'd clean it up!”

Liam's horror faded, a chuckle nearly escaping, Louis' stomach trembling with unsung giggles. They were terrible at pretend fights.

“What did you even do?”

“We just had snacks.”

“Just snacks?”

“Yeah, like,” Louis shifted his weight to his other foot, one shoulder shrugging forward, “naked snacks.”

 

_Louis arched off the kitchen table into Harry's body, his hands pinned above his head. Harry ground against him, sweat building under Louis' back on the slick table top. Their breath mingled, Harry eyeing his mouth. Louis moaned softly and bit his bottom lip, noting Harry's hips shuddering a touch out of rhythm, his hands loosening on his wrists._

_Long fingers laced in the back of Louis' hair, his head tilting back, their lips even closer. He could practically taste the dot of caramel shining on the corner of Harry's mouth. He breathed in to speak just as Harry pulled his hair harder, sucking a wet kiss to the side of his lips and dragging his teeth over his jawline. Louis giggled and Harry leaned down, biting his right inner arm._

_“Ah!”_

_Louis gasped half a laugh, the other half a throaty shudder. Harry smiled against the skin, sucking it into his mouth._

_“You like that?”_

_“Hmph.” Harry repeated the bite lower and closer to the soft hair under his arm, the skin thinner and more sensitive. Louis shut his eyes, groaning, “Maybe?”_

_Harry smiled and sucked on his neck, dragging his hands down his arms. Louis went for his arse, spanking him with both hands. Harry bucked faster against him, their cocks rubbing together with slick, sweaty friction._

_Louis reached for a discarded take-out container above his head. Harry's eyes followed the motion, fingers pinching at his nipples. He lowered his face to Louis' chest, kissing down the center and then sucking his right nipple into his mouth. He felt him shudder under him and did it again, harder._

_“Like that, too?”_

_Louis smushed a palmful of caramel mousse into the front of Harry's hair. Harry just laughed and shook his head. He gripped his hips and pulled Louis closer to him before repinning his unresisting wrists over his head. Louis grinned up at him, wrapping his legs around his lower back._

_“You looked like you could use some product for those fly aways.”_

_“You're in trouble,” Harry murmured, humping him faster, Louis laughing into his caramel curls._

 

“Snacks,” Liam stated, rolling his eyes around the destroyed kitchen. “Snacks are eaten on a plate. Or a napkin. What the fuck was this?”

“Snacks and then, uh, activities.” Louis flip flopped his right hand side to side. “Snacks and activities together.”

 

_“Oh, come on, you big baby,” Louis said, kneeling naked on the floor between the kitchen and the living room. He kept his eyes locked with Harry, lowering himself backwards and lifting his arms over his head. “Who really cares if we're naked?” He breathed in deeply, his half hard cock ruining the graceful bow of his bent body. “Let's see what you can do, Mr. Yogi.”_

_Harry blinked down at him, Louis settling comfortably into one of his favorite yoga positions. He padded around Louis' body and put his hands on the floor._

_“What are you doing?” Louis asked, craning his neck._

_Harry pushed his feet off the floor. His long legs slowly lifted into the air, Louis spreading his legs to sit on his own bum, his head tiling backwards for an upside down view of Harry's hand stand. His mouth opened, no sound coming out. Harry's limbs straightened, the muscles of his shoulders looking firm and strong, his arse trembling slightly._

_“Can you do this?”_

_Louis lifted himself up and turned around. He crawled over to Harry, going around his body to see his face. He stared at his thighs, his head turning on its side once he saw Harry's cock swaying lazily against his softly muscled stomach. He picked up a discarded chip and held it up to Harry's lips. He pushed it as far inside as it would go until he hit teeth, Harry huffing out of his nose._

_“Ew, go away,” Harry said through tight lips, his body moving side to side. A smile broke out over his face. “You're just jealous you can't do this.”_

_Louis grinned and prodded up Harry's nose with the cold chip, Harry's nose twitching and his long legs scissoring. His feet almost flopped to the ground, but he recovered, his abs tightening with a soft grunt and his legs straightening again._

_“Not fair, dick!”_

_Louis dropped the chip, smirked, and slowly wiggled his fingers in the air beside Harry's ribs. Harry's eyes popped out of his head, giggles already bubbling from his full lips._

_“That's it,” he said, bringing his legs down towards Louis._

_Louis squealed a high pitched laugh and pushed himself backwards on the floor. He bumped into the coffee table and fell off to the side, giggling and rolling towards the television. Harry gripped his ankles, flipped him over, and pulled him towards the kitchen as if his body weighed nothing. Louis had never been so grateful for their well maintained floors than when his bare arse was being dragged along the ground._

_“Unhand me!”_

_Louis kicked at him, both laughing louder by the breathless second, bodies fumbling together under the table. Harry straddled him, his chest pinning Louis' torso to the floor while he reached off to the side for something. Louis squeezed his hips, Harry guffawing against the side of his face and squirming, chips mushing beneath their bodies._

_“Aw, you trying to kiss me, Har?”_

_“Yeah, open your mouth.”_

_“What are you--”_

_Harry came into his line of hazy vision, along with a plastic bottle pointed at his face._

_“Harry!”_

_He tried to push Harry off of him while his stomach ached with uncontrollable laughter, a firm stream of ketchup spraying on his face and in his mouth, Harry cackling throatily behind the bottle._

 

“Well, good luck cleaning this all up.”

Louis eyed the mess and sighed, bringing his bottle of water to his lips. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, then snarled his lips. The back of his hand tasted like a mixture of caramel and ketchup.

“Blech,” he said to himself, slapping his lips together.

“When did you even go to bed?”

 

_Harry jolted awake, his phone vibrating on his forehead. The alarm tone spewed in the quiet kitchen, his head pounding out of rhythm with the bubbling tones. He heard the same tone every morning, bright and early, but that morning it was somehow more nauseating that ever._

_He groaned and silenced the alarm, rolling onto his stomach. Something cold squished against his navel, his bare toes caught in something sticky. He groaned again, softer, and rubbed a hand over his face. He pulled his hand away, his palm red and sticky. One lucky benefit of working at the bakery was that his boss had an apartment upstairs for storage. It included and small bedroom with a full bathroom. He was free to use the space for naps and showers during especially long shifts, which would be a necessity that morning._

_He looked forward and saw feet. Louis' feet, more specifically, long and smooth with ketchup splatters dotted on the balls of his feet and both big toes, his left pinky toe completely red with ketchup._

_He smiled sleepily and reached forward, running one finger tip down the sole of his left foot. Louis hummed and scrunched his toes, folding his right foot over his left._

_Harry pushed himself off the floor and started the search for his clothing. At least he'd pulled his pants on before he apparently passed out on the floor, though the same couldn't be said for sweet Louis, his bare arse round in the still dark kitchen. He pulled a few semi-clean looking napkins from the table and placed them on Louis' arse. He padded around the kitchen, snagging a shirt here, jeans there. He shrugged his clothing on, wincing at the feeling of fabric sticking to various fluids._

_“Fucking nasty night,” he whispered to himself, smiling down at Louis._

_He put on his socks, boots, and coat. He bent over, gently rubbing Louis' shoulder. He snorted at the jiggle of his arse, which caused the napkins to flutter gracefully to the ground._

_“Hey, I'm leaving.”_

_Louis shrugged his hand away and muttered something unintelligible, his arse wiggling while his legs moved on the messy floor. Harry wiggled his finger into Louis' neck, Louis whining through his nose and moving his head with slow, sleepy motions._

_“Do I need to lock the door behind me?”_

_“Nnnmph.”_

_“I'll take that as a no.”_

_He stroked the back of Louis' head. His hair there was soft and warm from sleep, while also being free from any food or ketchup blobs._

_“Brmmph.”_

_Harry smiled and tugged on his earlobe._

 

“Dunno. I woke up on my bed with towels everywhere. I apparently was coherent enough to wipe off the majority of the mess. My sink looks like a murder scene." He yawned. "Fuck if I know when I did that.” Louis scratched his hair, his scratches slowing until he pulled his hand away. He studied the chunks of chip that he pulled from his hair, his stomach heaving. “Gross.”

“Did you also visit a tattoo parlor last night?”

Louis thought for a moment, his eyes rolling towards the ceiling. He shook his head, looking back to Liam, brushing his fingers against his sweat pants.

“No, thank God. Why?”

Liam giggled softly and pointed behind him, Louis spinning while eying his back.

“What--” He pushed his sweats down his arse, Liam laughing harder and bending slightly forward. “What does it say?”

Liam smiled innocent as a choir boy, his puppy eyes batting at Louis.

“Dirty Boy.”

Louis stopped spinning, his body tilted to the left, his hands flat on his lower back.

“What!?”

“That's what it says,” Liam laughed, prodding the black letters. “Dirty Boy. In lovely calligraphy, if I do say so myself. Oh, and there's a heart on your right bum cheek and a star on the left. Both are also well drawn.”

Louis grinned at the black Sharpie left on the kitchen table, then looked back to his new ink.

“I'm gonna kill him.”

Liam patted his bare bum and winked.

“Good luck with that.”

With that, he left him in the kitchen. Louis put his hands on his hips and surveyed the damage. He had a couple of hours before he needed to leave for work. He could knock out the kitchen and a shower in that time.

Once he was at the office, which was definitely lacking the unmistakable charm of Zayn, he tried as best he could to complete some work. It was near impossible to do so. Everyone was dragging from the night before, none of the higher-ups had arrived by lunch, and the kitchen had run out of smoothies. All in all, it was a painful morning for the employees at Simone who had decided to show up.

After trying to eat a sandwich for lunch and only getting through half of it before his stomach felt curdled as unrefrigerated caramel mousse, he picked up his phone.

_wtf did we do last night? why did we keep drinking when we both were already drunk?_

Harry's reply came ten unfocused minutes later while Louis was trying to remember how to convert an email to PDF. 

**i haven't suffered so much from drinking and staying up late since culinary school. i had to teach thirty senior citizens how to frost cupcakes @ 8 this morning. 8 IN THE MORNING.**

_ouch!_

**this is all your fault. you're a terrible influence ;)**

While he tried not to giggle aloud at Harry's use of a winky face, he typed out his next message, shifting in his seat.

_you gave me a tramp stamp. totally your fault_

Harry's next message was a photo. Louis opened it and burst out laughing, workers in nearby offices peering at him curiously. Harry had snapped a photo of his lower belly, his tee hiked up and his jeans tugged down. The words, “Suck it and see!” were written in Louis' handwriting along his abs. Two big, fat arrows started on each of his hip dents and led below his white boxers. 

_ok so we've learned that we must lock up any sharpies while drinking_

**k dirty boy. sharpies, condiments, etc etc**

Louis checked the clock on his computer and sighed, massaging his closed eyes. His mild headache had disappeared, a smile glued to his face. He sat back in his seat, tucking his bare right foot under his bum. While showering that morning, he discovered that Harry had drawn a happy face on his left big toe and a sad face on his right big toe.

_how long until you finish work and can go home?_

Harry sent a photo of himself in a big, white bed, his body on his side and the photo taken from the pillow next to him. He was smiling with wild, seemingly damp hair, his chest bare and his eyes half shut, muted sunlight streaming in from a window with white curtains behind him. Did Harry live on a cloud?

Whether the softness of his eyes was from his big smile or his lingering sleepiness, Louis would never know. But his thumb worked of its own accord as he set this to be Harry's called ID photo. He wiggled his toes against the back of his thigh. 

Harry's next message came through a few seconds later.

**in bed already! ha! the benefits of a crazy schedule.**

_jealous! my bum is falling asleep in my desk chair_

**you could join me. bring a laptop and work from bed. i'd try not to distract you too much, but no guarantees**

Louis snorted and placed his phone on the desk face down. 

“No guarantees,” he muttered.

He stood up and went to the kitchen for a cup of tea. He ran into Simon at the tea station. He was wearing sunglasses indoors and dunking a tea bag into a blue ceramic mug, a flask next to his mug.

“Louis,” Simon said, nodding once.

“Simon.” He nodded back. He selected a simple green tea bag. He needed all the detox he could get that day. “Thanks again for last night.”

Simon smiled as best he could, coughing while his lips spread apart.

“You're welcome.”

Zayn came into the kitchen at that moment wearing sunglasses and a thick black beanie pulled down to his eyebrows. He gave one guttural grunt and nod in their direction before he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and a chocolate donut on the way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from my favorite Tegan and Sara song, [ Relief Next To Me ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yftgnkdan8%20)
> 
> Come say hello on [ LJ](http://dolce-piccante.livejournal.com) and [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Longggg chapter. Kind of smutty and over 6,200 words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Not real, never happened, total fiction. Story belongs to me and should not be reposted anywhere without my written permission. This is all meant to be just silly fun. Also, the internet is a scary place, including Craigslist! Please do not take this fic seriously and be sure to always be safe when using the internet.
> 
> Huge thank you to [Jess](whitechimes.tumblr.com) for her incredible support and help and patience! Also, thank you to my boo D for being a lovely cheerleader!
> 
> The song I listened to a lot for this chapter was [Hella Good](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QtTj4cramPM) by No Doubt.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who commented or left kudos, it is MUCH appreciated! :D

“You're going to get sick of climbing those steps.”

Harry smiled up at him, a fern green beanie perched on his head, his hands in his jean pockets.

“Not likely.”

Louis held the door open for him, Harry ducking inside. The door shut quietly. Harry took his beanie off and ruffled his hair. 

“What'd you do so far today?”

“Hot yoga. Shower. Took a nap. Folded towels.”

“Nice.” Harry swung his black rucksack around to his front and unzipped it. He put his beanie inside and pulled out a white bag, the smell of sweet fruit rushing to Louis' nose. “As promised.”

“Nice, you're a man of your word,” Louis laughed, taking the bag. He opened the top and inhaled, his eyes closing. “Mmm. Banana nut?”

“And blueberry crumb.”

His eyes opened.

“Thanks so much.” He reached in the bag and pinched off a generous piece of banana nut. He tilted his head back to accommodate such a big piece, Harry chuckling. Louis chewed it with his mouth shut and hummed, nodding quickly. He held his wrist over his mouth and swallowed. “That's a damn good muffin.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, cheeks coloring while he grinned at the ground, dropping his rucksack at his feet.

“You didn't have to actually donate muffins, though my flatmate will probably die of joy when he sees them.” Louis placed the bag on his kitchen table, brushing his hands together. “How was work? Less painful than yesterday, I hope.”

“Yeah, it was okay.” Harry moved in a slow circle with his arms sticking out, Louis taking his coat off for him. “Pretty normal Saturday. We sold out of almond croissants by nine, so that was kind of a controversy amongst the regulars.”

Louis laid his coat on a kitchen chair. The kitchen was spotless and smelled faintly of bleach, not a spot of ketchup to be found.

“No elderly cupcake clinics at six in the morning?”

“No, thank fuck,” Harry said, chuckling softly. “I would have lost it.” He rolled up on the balls of his feet, peering down Liam's hallway. “Flatmate home?”

Louis walked up to him, tilting his head.

“Nope.” He slipped his fingers inside Harry's trousers, tugging on his belt buckle. Harry bit his bottom lip, eyes dragging down Louis' front before landing on his face. Louis pulled him closer and nosed his jawline. He picked up Harry's rucksack, Harry's hand wrapping around the strap to take it from him. “Come along now.”

Harry smiled slowly. He stepped forward and Louis stepped back, both making their way to the bedroom.

“Wow,” Harry said, smiling wider. “Nice set up.”

Louis had outfitted his mattress and pillows with black bedding and kept his duvet folded on a chair under his window. 

“I kind of want to wrestle you on there,” Harry said, stepping on the back of his left heel. He stepped out of his boot and dropped his rucksack at the foot of the bed. Louis noted that he was wearing black socks that day. “Or do some sort of gymnastics.”

Louis sat on the bed, rubbing his hands over the linen.

“I'd love to watch you do naked gymnastics. But I'd totally beat you at wrestling.”

Harry smiled amusedly, kicking his other boot aside.

“Are you serious?”

Louis unbuttoned his black skinnies and lowered them on his hips.

“I'm very serious.” He folded his boxers down, the darker hair of his groin revealed. His eyes sparkled up at Harry. “I'm scrappy.”

Harry's hand halted his movements. Louis looked to the left while he lifted the bottom of his shirt, a sliver of the tanned skin of his stomach revealed.

“I don't need to be topless for you to rim me.”

Harry put one knee on the bed, his inner thigh touching Louis' side. He stroked a slow circle around his navel, lips turning up at the ends.

“But the view is much more lovely that way.”

Louis sighed and lifted his arms, looking up expectantly. Harry did not move. 

“Well? Aren't you going to take my shirt off?”

Harry walked his fingers up Louis' stomach, a mischievous sparkle radiating off his warm body. Louis felt his stomach drop, but the feeling was not unpleasant. From the look in Harry's eye, he had planned this entire thing out, hopefully while wanking himself silly in his big white angel bed. That visual was also not unpleasant.

“Lay back on the bed, please.”

Louis barked a laugh.

“What?”

“Hey,” Harry snapped the waistband of his boxers, sly smirk making Louis' face feel hot, “you got to blow me while asking questions.”

Louis bristled and moved his mouth without sound for a moment, much like a confused blowfish, though he started to settle on his back on the bed. 

“That was, uh,” he propped his right hand behind his head, “part of the agreement.”

“Ah, right.” Harry rolled his shirt up and kissed beneath his navel, thumbing his hipbones. “The agreement.” He rolled his shirt higher, licking the groove up the center of his stomach. He opened his mouth on Louis' ribs, mouthing a wet kiss. Louis shifted under him. “You smell so good.”

“I think you must have failed anatomy,” he twirled his fingers in the back of Harry's hair, “because that's not my arse.”

Harry chuckled low in his throat. He pulled Louis' skinnies off, lifting one ankle to rest on his shoulder. He pulled the material over his ankle, then switched his legs and repeated the action on his other ankle. He massaged his thumb into his left arch and Louis moved his leg away with a low growl, Harry chuckling again.

“I think you're nervous for me to eat you out. That's what all this sass is for.”

Louis giggled amusedly and reached down, rubbing himself through his pants.

“You like when I sass you.”

Harry pulled his own black tee off and tossed it on the ground. He grinned, pushing Louis' shirt up his stomach. Louis lifted his arms and his shirt hit the floor.

“That's true.” 

“I bet you're terrible at this, anyway.”

Harry's cheeks dimpled.

“Oh, really?”

“Really.”

When their faces were within touching distance, Harry asked, “Do you want to know why I like doing this so much?”

Louis smiled at him, tilting his head in the opposite direction. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, noting Harry's gaze straying to watch the motion. He had a habit of watching his lips.

“Why is that?”

“Because I get to watch you,” his hot palm flattened on Louis' stomach, “and feel you, lose it. Get to taste it. Taste you.”

Louis blinked once, his lashes swaying with a dramatic, slow swoop.

“You think you're gonna make me lose it?”

“Mmhmm,” Harry said, nodding just as slow and swoopy. “I am.”

Louis blew air through his lips and snorted.

“That's what they all say.”

Harry stroked his cheek with his thumb during a moment of stillness, their eyes locked, Harry's thumb the only movement. Then the skin around his eyes crinkled, a small smile flickering over his face. He reached above Louis with his other hand and grabbed a pillow.

“Turn onto your stomach, please.”

Louis smiled and rolled onto his stomach, Harry grabbing another pillow. Only Harry would give bedroom commands while remembering to say please and thank you. 

Warm hands gripped his hips, pulling his arse into the air. Harry placed the pillows under his hips, hands palming Louis' arse once. 

“Thanks for letting me do this, Lou,” he whispered against his lower back. “I really appreciate it.”

Whenever Harry was around, a prickle of heat seemed to spring to life in Louis' belly. That prickle spread into a skin scorching burn, all from one whispered nickname. He stared at the headboard and swallowed, willing his voice to be even.

“Don't make me regret it,” he said, able to hear Harry laughing at the bottom of the bed. “I hate having my time wasted.”

Harry kissed along his lower back, just above the waistband of his boxers, tongue lathing the bumps of his spine. His hands rubbed the backs of his thighs.

“You'll tell me if you don't like something, yeah?”

Fingernails dragged behind his knees, Louis jerking his body.

“Yeah. Don't do that,” he said tightly, Harry chuckling.

“That was a test.”

“You're awful.”

Harry kissed the back of his thigh, sliding his hands up under the legs of his boxers. He let his fingers curve around to the creases of Louis' thigh and groin, stroking along the tender lines of skin and downy hair. Louis grunted ever so softly and pushed against his hands, Harry smiling to himself.

He took his hands out and rolled Louis' boxers down just to the crack of his arse, repeating the line of kisses. Louis' legs shifted on the bed, his feet sliding over the cool black sheet. His boxers were pulled lower, Harry biting down softly on the upper curve of his arse. He kissed his way down as he lowered his boxers. He dragged his nose down the round curve of his right cheek until it ducked inward on the top of his thigh.

“Fuck.” He sucked a kiss to his left cheek. “This arse.”

Louis smiled into the pillow under his face and lifted his hips, Harry pulling his boxers down his legs. He heard the shuffling of clothing behind him, the bed lulling.

Harry settled between his legs and whispered, “Fuck,” his hands cupping each cheek. Louis smiled wider, Harry rubbing his hands over his arse and kissing random spots, the strange mixture of massage and kisses making him both giddy and relaxed. He wanted to ask if this was all part of Harry's secret technique. A bum massage to loosen him up. But it felt so pleasant and easy that he didn't care to comment.

“I can still see your tattoo,” Harry whispered, lathing his tongue in a horizontal line just above Louis' arse. Fading ink tingled beneath his tongue. “Dirty boy.”

Louis giggled and spread his legs wider. 

“Your fau--”

His voice got caught in his throat. Soft vibrations from a hot, wet mouth made his eyes open wider. He reminded himself that this was just a rim job from practically a stranger. He willed his spine to relax and his toes to uncurl, his reward for relaxation a dull burn igniting at the base of his spine. 

Harry hummed even lower for his second tongue swirl, hands squeezing Louis' arse hard. The dull burn expanded, snagging some tendons and muscles along the back of his ribs.

“Fault,” Louis exhaled, Harry chuckling and flattening his tongue. 

He dragged his tongue just around Louis' opening, not quite in the center but close enough for Louis to sigh and press backwards, the teasing tip of his tongue not enough.

“Hmm,” Harry squeezed his cheeks and pressed his nose just above his crack, “you want more?”

“Not at all.”

Harry bit the fleshiest part of his left side, dragging his top teeth in a sawing motion next to his opening. He nibbled up and down, tongue swiping every nibble until saliva coated his skin. Louis' eyes widened again.

“What the fuck is that supposed to be?”

“Do you not like it?”

Harry swirled his tongue, thumbs massaging the sides of his opening and pulling him open wider. He sucked the deep rose skin, the tip of his tongue pressing ever so against his rim.

“I have...” Louis bit his bottom lip, trembling for a split second. “No opinion.”

That pulled another soft laugh from Harry.

“Alright,” he gently slapped Louis' right cheek, “whatever you say.”

He flattened his tongue and licked over his opening, then did it again, and again, humming each time at a slightly different pitch. He licked over the practically invisible, baby soft hair that dusted Louis' arse, letting his tongue flatten the hair in different patterns.

Louis rolled his bum backwards in time with Harry's licks, a louder, deeper vibration resonating against his skin. 

“You like that?” he asked, Harry humming, “Mmmm,” and squeezing his hips.

Louis buried his face in the crook of his arm and kept grinding backwards lazily, Harry's hands rubbing up to his lower back. He flattened his palms over the arch of his back, dragging his fingernails down his spine. Louis sighed loudly, pushing harder against his mouth. Harry's fingernails repeated the path, light pink lines blooming on his wet skin. 

“You smell so hot when you sweat. Fucking clean but,” he pressed his face between his cheeks for a beat, moving his face side to side, “still like you.”

“Fuck,” Louis laughed, covering his face with his arm. He could feel himself blushing furiously. “Jesus Christ.”

Harry lifted his hips up just a touch and tilted his pelvis to the left, his hands smoothing over Louis' arse after the tiny adjustment. He swirled his tongue once more, then licked lower. Louis groaned at the surprise and humped forward into the pillows, Harry holding his hips tight.

“Hello,” he murmured happily, Louis biting his bottom lip and clenching his eyes shut. No matter how he wiggled, Harry held tight, rhythmic licks against the patch of skin behind his balls sending bolts of pleasure down to his toes. “You like this?”

“Shut up and keep licking.”

Harry snorted at his snap, but squeezed Louis' hips and continued. Louis heard Harry spit, but felt no liquid hit his arse. Harry reached around to his front and gripped his cock, starting to jack him while sucking his way from arse to perineum. Louis moaned into his arm, grinding into Harry's hand. 

Then the tip of Harry's tongue was back on his opening, Harry putting just enough pressure to get the tip inside. He squeezed Louis' cock and thumbed his head and then Louis was falling, come spurting into the palm of Harry's hand, Harry pressing his tongue deeper inside as his muscles contracted.

Harry waited until Louis' breathing went back to normal before removing his hand, the bed lulling and Louis' body relaxing into the sweaty sheets.

He heard water running in some corner of his mind. He felt Harry return to the bed, warmth settling between his legs again. Harry squeezed his bare feet, massaging up to his toes. Louis giggled breathily, pulling the sweaty pillow out from under his face. His arm stayed extended while he continued to recover, Harry holding his hips and pulling his arse into the air.

“Soft...tongue,” Louis panted, body boneless on the bed. “Nice effort.”

“Oh, that was just the warm up.”

Louis lifted his head and blinked at him, his cheek creased from pillows. Harry smiled at him while licking his lips. Louis' brain went red hot for a minute, a small laugh erupting from his mouth.

“What?”

“Yeah, I wanted you to get off first so you'd relax. I barely even touched your arse.” He dragged his fingers between Louis' cheeks and smiled innocently. “I'm not done with you yet, if you're okay with going again.”

Louis stared at him for another beat. He flipped through his mental calendar. Liam would be out at least until after dinner time, leaving them hours more to play. He hummed, relaxing on his front again. 

“Alright.”

Harry kissed the back of his hip and whispered, “Cool.” He brushed something plastic against Louis' lower back. “I brought lube with me.” He rolled the bottle up between his shoulder blades. “Can I use it?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, I have lube here if you need it.”

“I like this one because it's got a tiny bit of numbing in it. It'll make it even easier for you. Plus, I like how it tastes.”

Louis lifted his right hand in the air and lazily made a small circle.

“Then by all means,” his hand dropped back to the bed, “proceed.”

“Lift up, just for a second.”

Louis yawned, “Okay,” and lifted his hips, Harry sliding a black towel underneath his body. 

Harry whispered, “There's a good lad,” and pushed the pillows back into place. 

He nearly dozed off while Harry uncapped the bottle of lube. He hummed faintly when it drizzled between his cheeks.

“Feels nice,” he said softly, Harry thumbing the lube on and around his opening. “Kind of like massage oil.”

“It's organic.”

Louis nudged Harry's thigh with his big toe.

“Of course it is.”

Harry snuffled a laugh and dripped a bit more into his palm, rubbing his hands together. He rubbed his thumb over the pads of his fingers.

“Alright?”

Louis hummed, nodding into the pillow.

Harry spread him open with his left hand, then slowly pressed his right middle finger inside, watching wide eyed as his flesh so easily melded with Louis' body. Louis smiled and breathed out as he pressed in again, Harry brushing his lips over his lower back. 

“Alright?”

Louis scratched his forehead, his right leg bending.

“Mhmm.”

Harry slid one arm underneath his belly and pulled him closer, Louis' knees pressed into the bed. He licked the stretched skin around his middle finger, pumping his hand a touch faster, his arm still holding tight.

“Fuck, you look sick like this.”

Louis tried to grind against the pillow but Harry hummed, biting on his left arse cheek and holding him in place. Louis pressed the balls of his feet into the mattress and arched his back more, riding Harry's finger faster. Harry added a second finger, but slowed his pace, just barely curving his fingers to the side each time he entered Louis.

Louis managed to stay mostly silent for around a minute before his brow started to sweat, the backs of his thighs twitching.

“C'mon,” he breathed, wiggling against his arm. 

Harry laughed softly.

“Do you need something, Louis?”

“No,” Louis said before he could even finish saying his name. His face was growing warm against his forearm. Harry sped up his fingers, giving just a bit more curve, and Louis whimpered, “No, I don't.”

“It's alright if you do. All you have to do is ask.”

“I thought you were the expert here.”

Harry laughed again, lower and even softer.

“I know exactly what you want.”

He pushed his fingers inside hard and to the left, Louis crying out suddenly and arching his back. The backdrop behind his eyes went black with hole-punched stars for a second.

“That doesn't mean I'm going to give it to you right away, though.”

Louis squinted at the bed, his mouth stuck open while tiny gasps left his mouth, the muscles of his stomach starting to flutter as Harry's fingers pressed against his prostate faster and harder and faster and--

“Oh, _fuck!_ ” 

He couldn't help but shout, hands gripping the sheet while his stomach panted against Harry's arm. He pulled himself up the bed but Harry grunted, pulling him back down onto his fingers. Louis groaned higher and louder, his hips spasming against Harry's sweaty forearm and his legs kicking at the bed.

“You're making me so fucking hard, Lou. You're fucking hot inside.”

Louis kicked at Harry, who apparently had a dirty mouth in more ways than one. Harry chuckled softly, not bothered. He pulled his fingers out slowly and held onto Louis' hips, pulling him back as he licked forward, tongue sliding easily into him. Louis gasped and writhed, finally able to grind against the pillows.

“Thank fuck,” he panted, until Harry reached around him, arm back in place. He lifted him just high enough so that he couldn't rub against the pillows with any real friction. He whined, “Why?”

“Tell me about the last time someone did this to you.”

“Why?”

“I wanna know what you liked or didn't like.”

Louis moaned once Harry's tongue started to lick deeper in earnest, his back muscles twitching. 

“Uh, he—Ah!” 

He cried out again, an involuntary burst of sound pushed from his diaphragm. Harry hummed and rotated his finger inside of Louis, his tongue following and snaking inside.

“He,” Louis swallowed and blinked rapidly, “had long f-fingers.”

Harry added his second finger again.

“Longer than mine?”

Before Louis could answer, the pads of his fingers were back to his hot spot, massaging deep, fast circles that made Louis' legs kick out without warning. Harry's arm tightened around his waist, holding him in place.

“Easy, easy,” he murmured lowly, his deep voice echoing around Louis' skull.

“No,” Louis managed to groan out, shaking his head and digging his fingernails into the sheets. “Not longer.” Harry prodded harder and Louis pushed back against him, causing himself to cry out higher. “Fuck! Oh God!”

Harry kissed his arse cheek, kissing closer to the crease of his arse. He licked from balls to lower back, fingers still pumping in and out. 

“What did you not like?” he rasped.

He scissored his fingers and pushed his tongue inside between them, Louis letting out a high, long sigh.

“He—He couldn't get good spit going.”

“Hmm. Couldn't keep you wet?” 

“No.”

Harry flickered the tip of his tongue rapidly and Louis trembled against his licks, his head falling forward in defeat.

He felt both wound up and boneless. Exhausted but ready to run a marathon. Too hot but not hot enough. His limbs shot out at random while Harry's tongue flickered, louder breaths and whimpers leaving his panting mouth, saliva pooling on the towel under his body. The glowing ball of warmth in the center of his belly only made him want to press harder against Harry's mouth and fingers and tongue and fucking everything. 

A deep hum made Louis' fingers twitch in the sheets, his arse humping gently backwards.

“But I'm keeping you wet, aren't I, Lou?”

Louis let his eyes fall shut to the sound of Harry's quiet voice, a sighed, “Yes,” whispered before he moaned, reaching down between his body and the pillows. He gave himself one tight, long pull and moaned even louder, hand speeding up and his jaw slack on his pillow.

Harry pushed his left leg higher on the pillow, the shift of his leg pulling Harry's fingers even deeper inside of him. His body made a slurping sound, which was promptly swallowed by Harry's wet mouth. Louis dropped his forehead on the bed and rocked back into Harry, whispering, “Fucking hell.”

“Gonna lift you a bit.”

Louis didn't realize Harry's quickly rasped words were meant for him, so close to coming that his head felt full of air. His hips were pulled higher, Harry's mouth sucking hard on his rim while he growled softly. Both of his strong arms wrapped around his waist, limiting how much he could move away from Harry's tongue. He fought it for all of three seconds, Harry's palm pressing his cock to his belly and stilling his movements.

“Hate that I like that so much,” Louis said, vibrations shaking though his entire body. 

Harry's tongue was stronger than his arms, the thick muscle pushing inside and licking to the left. Drops of sweat dripped down the back of Louis' neck, his hair matted to his forehead. Harry massaged him inside while squeezing his cock in time, low hums going impossibly deeper. Harry's thumb slipped in beside his tongue.

“Next time,” he replaced his tongue with two fingers, “you're gonna sit on my face.”

“Okay,” Louis said, tone unusually obedient.

Harry kissed his arse cheek once, crooking his fingers. Louis' high, choppy moans returned, his hips rolling backwards. Their rhythm grew together until Louis was riding his fingers, Louis holding onto the headboard to push himself backwards.

“Have you had enough? Should I be merciful?”

“No,” Louis said, all signs of obedience gone. He lifted his head and glared over his shoulder, Harry smiling at him. 

“You don't fancy coming?”

“No,” he said, voice breaking and wet hair flopping against his forehead.

Harry seemed to be on the brink of laugher, while Louis was on the brink of insanity.

“You're so stubborn.”

“And you're wasting my time.”

Harry didn't look away, only smiling wider and fingering him faster, one eyebrow raised and his dimples on display.

“I'll fucking eat you all day, then.” He tightened his hand around Louis' head, licking his slick lips. “I've got no other plans.”

Louis tried to maintain eye contact but failed, his eyes clenching shut and his head tilting back, his mouth open on a silent scream. He sucked a breath in, only to shout it out in a guttural, “Fuck, Harry!”

Harry's low hum only infuriated him more, a blunt fingernail digging into his slit. Louis spasmed around his fingers and slapped both hands against the headboard, the volume of his wailing moan shaking the walls. He pushed himself off the bed with his pointed toes and could swear he was being pulled into the ceiling, Harry's fingers vibrating on his prostate while he pulsed what felt like gallons of come over his hand. 

“Fucking beautiful, Louis.”

Harry crooked his fingers just so and another surge of come dribbled out of Louis' slit, another moan soaring over the sound of skin meeting skin. 

Once Harry stopped the hypnotic motions of his hands, he eased his fingers out. He wiped them on the black towel and lifted a corner to gently wipe Louis' bum. Each breath Louis exhaled was accompanied by a wrecked whimper, his back heaving and sweat shining over ever inch of him. 

Harry sat back and Louis rolled over. He threw his arms loosely over his face, the pillows elevating his knee caps. His sparse body hair was darkened by sweat. His toes trembled in the air about an inch above the mattress. His cock laid spent but still a touch hard, come shining in the hair below his navel.

Harry kissed his knees, smoothing his hands up the tops of his thighs.

“Y'alright?”

He kissed over Louis' soft belly, the flesh ballooning out with each noisy breath. 

“Yeah,” Louis croaked. He giggled lightly, the sweet sound making Harry giggle along with him. He kissed his tummy while they kept giggling. Louis wiped his palms over his face and let his hands fall limp above his head on the pillow. He brushed his big toes against Harry's ribs, still giggling. “I'm great, thanks.”

Harry prodded his navel and lifted himself off the bed chuckling softly.

“Good.”

Louis blindly reached out for him. He dug his fingers into Harry's shoulder, sweat smooth under the pads of his fingers.

“Your poor jaw,” he mumbled, Harry smirking amusedly down at him. He cupped Harry's face, squeezing his jawline. He breathed, “Fucking hell,” and let his eyes flutter shut, his breathing starting to even out. “I need another nap.”

Harry massaged the side of his face, moving his lower jaw side to side.

“Not too bad. Worth it.” He moved off the bed, giving Louis' foot a squeeze in passing. “Gonna use the loo.”

“Mmmhm.”

Louis heard Harry unzip something.

“Ah, shoot.”

“What?”

“I kept my gym stuff in here so I could clean up, but I left my travel toothbrush at home.”

Louis nudged his chin in the direction of his bathroom. Harry noticed a collection of small bruises along his inner arm, his tongue tingling at the memory.

“There should be a few new ones in the drawer. Feel free to take one.” He opened his eyes and pointed one finger at him. “There's a Sharpie in there, too, for you to put your name. But don't get any ideas about drawing a cock on my face if I fall asleep.”

“Psh, that's not creative at all,” Harry said, hugging his bag to his chest. Louis noted he was still wearing his jeans, but nothing else. “If anything, I'd tattoo the words, 'Stairway to heaven,' up your thighs.”

Louis burst out laughing, his stomach muscles burning.

“You're such a lunatic.”

Harry went towards the bathroom and said, “Be right back, need to get my knife out to violently murder you,” over his shoulder.

Louis just giggled with his eyes shut. 

Harry went into the bathroom and closed the door. He grabbed a black headband out of his bag and pushed it over his sweaty hair. He took his face wash out of his gym bag and placed it on the counter. He turned the faucet on for warm water and splashed it over his face, letting it drip down to his neck. 

He let his head drop back then roll side to side, water dripping over his nipples and down to pool in his navel. He bit his top lip and pushed his groin against the cool counter top, rubbing his hands up his chest. He turned the water to cold, ready to dunk his face underneath.

He soaped up his hands, quickly washing his face. He splashed cold water on his face and sighed in relief. He blinked, water lingering on his lashes, and reached out for a clean towel. One thing he was happy to learn about Louis was that he kept a well stocked bathroom. 

He pulled open the sink drawer and smiled at the handful of packaged toothbrushes. He picked a blue one and ripped open the plastic, tossing it in the bin under the sink. He saw the Sharpie Louis mentioned, along with a collection of unpackaged toothbrushes. 

He used the capped end of the Sharpie to curiously prod at them, single letters written in black on the base of each toothbrush. There were a lot of letters to choose from. F, D, C, P, M. Frank, Dan, Chris, Peter, Mike?

He wrote an H on the base of his toothbrush and put the marker back inside the drawer. At least he was the first H in the bunch. 

He squirted some toothpaste on the brush and dipped it under the faucet, popping it in his mouth. As he brushed his back teeth, he opened the mirror and pulled out a big bottle of mouthwash, resting it on the counter. He spit and rinsed the brush, reapplying toothpaste and going for his tongue.

“Hi!”

He spun towards the door, Louis smiling brightly at him, shirtless but with soft looking red track bottoms on.

“Jesus,” he said, foam sputtering down his chin. “I thought you fell asleep.”

Louis dropped to his knees in front of him with his back resting against the cabinet. He placed Harry's bottle of lube on the floor and rubbed his hands together. Harry watched as Louis unbuttoned his jeans, still brushing his teeth, eyes lingering on the lube. He smiled around the foamy brush and leaned his hand on the countertop.

“What are you doing?”

“You think I didn't see that monster between your legs?” Louis slipped his hand inside his fly and pulled his cock out. “I might have been fucked out, but I'm not blind.”

Harry's eyes shut involuntarily, his back teeth biting down on the brush. He kept brushing his teeth, though the rhythm of his arm grew slow and off beat. He lost himself in the soft heat of Louis's mouth, a quiet, relieved moan exhaled out of his lips. 

The toothbrush fell into the sink while foam dribbled down his chin. He blinked rapidly and leaned over Louis. He cradled the back of his head and guided him forward, spitting in the sink. Louis pulled his lips off.

“If you get toothpaste in my hair, I'll bite.”

“Ooh.” Harry did a little hip shimmy. “Don't tempt me.”

Louis laughed, holding the base of his cock and licking at his head. He lowered Harry's jeans until they fell around his ankles. He picked up the lube and uncapped it with his thumb, jerking him slowly.

“Tell me why you enjoyed my arse so much. Nice headband, by the way.”

Harry stared down at him, a bit of toothpaste still on his chin. Slick fingers ghosted between his cheeks.

“What?” 

“Tell me why you liked having your tongue inside me.”

Harry shuddered and gripped the countertop, Louis chuckling softly from the floor.

“Hmm, should I just keep saying that?” Louis asked, Harry's pale skin flushing with sweat. “Tongue in my arse? Just to remind you how much you liked it?” He spoke slower. “Having your _tongue_ \--”

“You're not easy to read,” Harry said, voice low and thin. Two of Louis fingers pressed against him, circling firmly. His eyes struggled to stay open, his mouth trembling while words tumbled out. “You don't give up anything without a fight, so when you make noises. Moans. It's like I earned it. And--” Harry panted for a moment and Louis hummed, putting easy pressure against Harry's arse. His fingers slid inside just up to his knuckles. “Fuck. Sounds. Fuck, oh _God_ , I--”

Louis pumped his fingers once and sucked down to the base of his cock. He barely had time to get back to his head before his eyes widened, Harry grunting and filling his mouth with hot come. Louis was startled but kept sucking, breathing quickly through his nose and swallowing as best he could with his eyes prickling, Harry's arse squeezing his fingers like a vice. 

“Fuck,” Harry rasped, thumbing the side of Louis' stretched lips, “sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't warn you, that was really rude, I just--” He blinked hazy eyed down at Louis, who was staring up at him calmly as his cock slipped from his mouth. “I was so worked up from before and not expecting this at all and I have an especially big weakness for blow jobs, they're so good and you're just so good at it, and then with your fingers, I just.” Harry inhaled and exhaled, smiling, his stomach muscles visibly relaxing. “Yeah.”

“Are you done?”

“Yes,” Harry giggled, Louis grinning up at him. He pulled his headband off and ran his hands through his hair, blowing air slowly out of his mouth. “Thank you.”

Louis stood to his full height, keeping eye contact while thumbing the corner of his mouth. He sucked it between his lips and hummed, prodding Harry's stomach.

“Sweet.” 

His especially explosive final consonant made Harry's skin prickle with fresh sweat.

“You're gonna get me hard again.”

Louis grinned and flicked his balls.

“Fuck,” Harry groaned through a laugh, bending forward and cupping himself.

“There we go. No longer hard. You should be thanking me, honestly.”

. . .

“I'm not sure if I'll keep these boots,” Zayn said, lifting a shopping bag in his right hand. Liam squeezed his left hand, their arms swinging between them. “I'm undecided.”

“Why? You loved them in the store.”

“They kind of pinch my ankles. And I couldn't really feel my toes when they were on.”

Liam laughed warmly and bumped their shoulders together, both taking matching steps up the stoop of the building.

“Then why did you get them, silly?”

“You said you liked how they looked.”

“Yes, but I like your limbs to be properly circulated.” Zayn took a bag of groceries from him, Liam pulling his keys out of his pocket. “I can stop by the shop tomorrow and return them, if you want. I'm going near there for work.”

“I'll think about it.”

Before he could unlock the door to his building, the door pushed open slowly. Liam and Zayn stepped back to let them pass. The person stepped out, but stood in front of the door with his bum holding it open, both men looking up at him. The stranger smiled politely and gestured for them to walk inside.

“C'mon in,” he said, voice husky. 

“Oh, thanks so much,” Liam said, stepping in front of him.

Zayn said, “Much appreciated, thanks,” and hurried inside. 

“Sure, no problem,” the man said, pulling a green beanie over his hair. He nodded at both of them, his face practically glowing. He hitched a rucksack higher on his broad shoulders, offering them another shy smile. “Have a good night.”

“You too,” they said in unison.

The door shut and they started up the stairs to their flat.

“He seemed nice,” Liam said.

“Mmhmm.”

“I wonder if he's new in the building.” Liam took the grocery bag back from Zayn. “I didn't notice anyone move out.”

“Dunno. He smelled good, though.”

Liam stopped walking and gently slapped Zayn's arse, Zayn laughing and running up the steps ahead of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from my favorite Tegan and Sara song, [ Relief Next To Me ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yftgnkdan8%20)
> 
> Come say hello on [ LJ](http://dolce-piccante.livejournal.com) and [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com)


	6. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Louis continue their adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I usually call my chapters Interludes when it jumps around. Hopefully it's not too hard to follow, but this chapter takes places over multiple days and scenes. 
> 
> Thank you as always to [Jess](whitechimes.tumblr.com) for her incredible support and help and patience! Also, thank you to my boo D for being a lovely cheerleader!
> 
> Sorry this chapter is so late, but this weekend was crazy! It's around 7800 words, which is nuts, but hopefully you will enjoy. Thank you for all the kudos and comments on last chapter, meant the world to me! 
> 
> Enjoy! :D

Thunder boomed loud enough to shake the windows of Louis' bedroom, rain pounding in angry sheets against the thin glass.

“Louis, _fuck,_ ” long feet slid along cool sheets, “Louis--”

Louis pulled his mouth away, the tip of Harry's dick brushing over his lips. He smiled while his hand steadied his base, darting his tongue over his weeping slit.

“You enjoying yourself?”

“Yes,” Harry said with a shudder. “Very much so.”

He forgot to silence his phone before taking a nap and had never been happier to wake up to a text. Louis' text about getting out of work early including multiple Emoji hands, followed by an open mouthed smiley, and concluded with ten bursts of confetti. 

Harry arched his lower back, his legs spreading wider and his hands clenching the beams of the headboard. Louis peered up his body, Harry's stomach trembling. His arm muscles looked larger from this perspective, his biceps bulging each time Louis gently dug his thumbs into his thighs. 

Louis stroked his finger tips in a light flutter on Harry's balls, the tease of his darker, fleshier skin causing Harry to whine and smile into his own shoulder.

“Sorry?” Louis did it again and Harry started to giggle, his right knee bending inward. “What'd you say earlier?”

Harry's arm muscles flexed, his ribs pressing out of his sides, his cock twitching in Louis' hand. 

“Yes, I'm enjoying myself,” he exhaled on a big breath. He smiled down at Louis, fingers clenching the headboard. “Thank you so much.”

Louis kissed down his length, Harry arching upward. Thunder and wind roared outside, followed by a crackle of lightning.

Harry moaned, “Like this storm is accompanying my orgasm.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah. I think storms are kind of hot.”

Louis lifted himself onto his knees and crawled to Harry's side.

“Not me.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, watching Louis stand up next to the mattress. Louis pulled his tee off and let it fall to the ground. He lifted his right arm over his head, pushing his elbow down with his left hand. He hummed, the warm stretch of his back muscles only increasing when he leaned to the side. His abs scrunched to the side, then switched when he changed the direction of his stretch.

“Really? Why?...” Harry stroked himself while watching Louis stretch. “Uh...You look,” his eyes snapped back to Louis' face, his cheeks pinking, “I mean, why don't you...”

His gaze went from Louis' bare chest to his hips, then to his groin. Louis' boxers hit the floor and his hands rested on his hips.

“You don't,” Harry started, licking his lips, “you don't think...Your hair...” His words slowed while Louis ran his fingers through his hair and pulled on the longer back, walking back to bed. His cock was heavy between his legs, his neck elongated while he pulled on his own hair. “You don't think storms are, uh...” 

Louis kneeled on the bed and turned his back to Harry, who was still holding out a low, “Uh,” and holding completely still. He eased one leg over his broad chest, his feet almost tucked under Harry's arms, his shins flat on the bed. He bent over, keeping his arse a tongue's length from Harry's face. He gripped his cock and sucked his head once, Harry hissing and thrusting up towards his lips. 

Harry rubbed his hands over Louis' arse cheeks, dragging his palms down the sides of his thighs. He squeezed his ankles, then gripped his arse again.

“I prefer fog,” Louis said before sitting back, Harry moaning and pressing his face between his cheeks.

. . . 

“Fuck,” Harry breathed on his back, stomach curving up and down. His eyes were still shut, sweat pooling in the dip of his throat. “That was so good.” He licked his lips and smiled, rubbing the back of his hand over his mouth. “Thank you.”

Louis smiled and pulled his shirt on, sitting with his legs crossed on the mussed bed. He ran his tongue over his teeth.

“No problem.” He patted Harry's flank. “Thank you for eating my arse like a starved man.”

Soft laughter blended seamlessly with lazy breaths. He heard shuffling behind him and watched Harry's legs move just a few inches. Something fond and warm like fresh banana muffins unfurled in his stomach when he saw Harry in all his naked, long glory, but his feet cuddled under a corner of duvet.

“Why do you prefer fog?”

“Hm.” Louis stood up and bent over. He put one leg in his boxers. “I think...I think because it's soft.” He pulled them up and adjusted himself. “It makes light and colors dissipate. Everything looks more beautiful. It's like...” He turned to face Harry. Harry smiled at him, a sweet innocence lingering in his gently curled lips. “Walking in a dream, or something.”

“Interesting.” Harry stretched his legs to the end until his toes brushed the baseboard. He groaned in pleasure and reached his arms over his head. “What time is it?”

“Half six.”

Harry's eyes went wide, his arms dropping to push himself off the bed. He slid off by bouncing his bum three times until his feet hit the floor.

“Shit, I gotta go. Told Niall I'd go grocery shopping with him.”

He ran naked into the bathroom and emerged a few seconds later with a blue toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. He dressed himself in just his pale grey button down shirt, then ran back into the bathroom to spit, the shirt half open and falling off his shoulder. The faucet ran for a few seconds, slurping sounds carrying back into the bedroom.

“Niall?”

“Flatmate.”

Louis laid on the bed and took his iPad out of his bedside table. He started to go through emails, though his eyes often strayed to Harry dressing. He watched him fold his long limbs into tight clothes that somehow wrapped fully around his muscles and bones. 

Harry grabbed his rucksack and swung it around his body, looping one strap over his left shoulder. He smiled at Louis, leaning on the open bedroom doorway. He knocked his fist once on the frame.

“Thanks, mate.”

Louis waved at him from bed, his iPad balanced on his thighs.

“Happy shopping.”

. . .

Liam yawned as he entered the dim kitchen. He went to the coffee pot and filled it with water, then scooped a few spoonfuls of coffee into the top. Zayn had tossed and turned all night, leading to a less than rejuvenating sleep. He added another scoop for good luck. Soft footsteps padded behind him from the opposite end of the flat.

“Morning, Li.”

He blinked sleepily at Louis, who was wearing thick black sweats and a grey tank. The arm holes were too big for his body, the sides of his abs revealed each time he took a step.

“Hello there, sunshine.” He placed two mugs on the table. He opened the cabinet above the sink. “Cereal? Or muffins again?”

Louis shut his eyes and sat back in his seat, the quiet morning air enveloping him. He needed to get some coffee in him or else he'd nod off before the work day even started.

“Oh.” He blinked at Liam's back. “We're out of muffins.”

Liam spun, a blue bowl in his left hand and a red bowl in his right.

“What? Since when?”

“Since,” Louis scratched behind his ear, masking his smile with a yawn, “uh...”

He took a step closer to the table. Louis dropped his hands to his sides, his lips pursing for a beat. Then the corners of his mouth turned up, his eyes shining brightly. 

“You have that guilty, muffin-eating look on your face,” Liam said, placing the bowls on the kitchen table. He crossed his arms over his bare chest. “Do you have something to share?”

Louis squinted up at him, his face crinkling into a smile.

“I might have eaten the last couple last night.”

Liam gasped and clutched his hand to his chest.

“How dare you?”

“I was hungry at bedtime,” Louis laughed, wrapping his arms around himself, Liam giving his exposed ribs a few easy prods. “But we now have scones! So, there's that bit of good news!”

“Oh.” Liam smiled, his fingers pausing. “Where?”

“Micro,” Louis giggled loudly and pushed Liam's fingers out from under his arm, “wave.”

Liam patted Louis' shoulder.

“Lovely.”

He went over to the microwave and popped it open. He pulled out an unmarked white bag and took a deep breath, humming it out.

“Mmm.” He opened the bag and peered inside. “Chocolate?”

“Yup. Chocolate chip.”

Louis got up and took milk out of the fridge, looping back to the coffee pot. Liam placed the scones in the middle of the table, along with two spoons and two small white plates.

“Where'd you get these?”

Louis leaned over the table and poured coffee into their mugs. Liam sat back down, sugar bowl in hand, and Louis sat on his foot before sinking into his chair. They both grabbed napkins from the center of the table. Louis broke a scone in half, biting down on the piece in his right hand. 

“Harry brought them over,” he said, crumbs falling into his coffee.

“Oh.” His voice popped like a soap bubble in the air. “Harry.” Liam eyed the top of Louis' head while he ate. “So, you still see him?”

“Parts of him, yes.”

Liam's lips twitched into a smile, Louis smiling into his steaming mug.

“What's he like?”

Louis thumbed the side of his lips and smiled, chocolate stuck to his bottom lip. He sucked the pad of his thumb.

“Which part are you interested in learning about?”

Liam laughed and tucked into his own scone.

“I mean,” he took a bite, “is he cool?” His face went slack, expression blown open. “Sweet Jesus. This scone.” He hummed while chewing another bite. “We've never met him, you know?”

“Yeah, he's cool.” Louis yawned, ruffling his own hair. He smiled to himself, surprise lighting his face. He popped another pinch of scone in his mouth. He rattled off, “Really chill. Really nice. Polite.” He nearly said something about Harry's tongue, but stifled himself, instead chuckling, “Fun.”

Liam sipped his coffee, then spun the base of his mug on the table.

“What does he look like?”

Louis could not stop a smile from spreading across his face. Liam quirked an eyebrow.

“He's good looking,” Louis said, taking another scone out of the bag. His eyes flickered to Liam, his smile growing again. “He's tall. Green eyes.”

“You're being so coy,” Liam said, stirring his coffee. “I know you're a private person but...What are you hiding?”

“Nothing,” Louis said, starting to giggle. “Nothing. He's legitimately tall and he's good looking.” He chewed another bite. “With green eyes. There's nothing to hide.”

“You didn't refer to him as hot.”

Louis' brows twitched, his light eyes narrowing in confusion.

“I mean,” he shrugged, “yeah, he's hot.” Really, really, really hot, the tiny voice in his head moaned. “So what?”

“But you said _good looking_ , which is borderline handsome.”

“And?”

Liam grinned and stopped stirring, tapping his spoon on the mug's rim.

“Nothing. It's just interesting, that's all.”

Louis gently kicked his shin under the table.

“You're being weird.”

“I'm high on scones.”

. . .

Louis shut the bedroom door and blew air through his lips, his back resting on the door.

“That was close, but I don't think Liam heard anything.” He laughed lightly. “I love the guy, but he's got to stop forgetting things.”

He took a running start to jump on the bed. Harry whimpered, Louis slapping his arse through the duvet.

“What, you thought you were the only one who knows how to tease? I might not be the virtuoso you are, but I have my moments.”

Harry smiled and hummed, half asleep. 

“Fuck yes you do,” he murmured. He swallowed dryly, pulling Louis' duvet up to his neck. Louis' body went with the duvet, his front pressed to Harry's back. “I think you've killed me. I'm speaking these words from the great beyond.” His voice was barely more than a rasped whisper. He breathed softly for a moment, Louis letting the rise and fall of his back carry him up and down. “What year is it?” Harry smiled and giggled with his eyes still shut, sharp teeth pulling on his earlobe. “What day is today?”

Louis folded the duvet away from his back. He slipped his legs underneath, then replaced the duvet over their bodies. Harry made a comfortable settling sound when they molded together in a semi-spoon. Louis wasn't usually one to incorporate blanket time into his hook ups, but Harry sometimes seemed to enjoy a little snooze after coming.

Harry linked his feet in between Louis' and sighed. Louis could see his neck relax even more. He kissed the thick muscle along the side of his neck, looping his arm around to Harry's front. He flattened his palm and thumbed over his nipple, soft kisses spilling down to Harry's shoulders.

He kissed between Harry's shoulder blades, his hands sliding around his body to his lower back. He pressed his fingers firmly about an inch away from his either side of his spine. Harry let out a quiet, high pitched sigh, his whimper softer and happier. Louis' lips felt cool against the warm skin of his back, the smell of cherry almond hand soap fresh in the sex heavy air. 

Louis' head dipped below the duvet, his lips kissing a straight line down the center of his back. His hands wrapped around Harry's hips, rolling him onto his stomach. Soft, wet, kitten licks went between his cheeks, Harry smiling wider.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, that was just the warm up round,” Louis said from under the duvet, kissing the backs of his thighs. Harry giggled and spread his legs. Louis kissed his opening, lathing his tongue in a wet circle. He squeezed his hips. “I'm not done with this arse yet.”

. . .

Louis looked from his iPhone to a building number, his feet carrying him from home to home.

“Why are the numbers going both up and down?” he muttered under his breath. He checked the time and bit his bottom lip, his phone vibrating in his hand.

**are you lost? do you need help?**

“No, I'm fine,” Louis said out loud, typing the same words into a text.

**i can see you from my living room. you've walked two buildings too far. turn around (though i'm enjoying the view)**

Louis spun around and looked up. He walked past two buildings and paused. The brownstone was a deep red brick, as Harry had described, and had a light wood door with colorful stained glass windows. He climbed the stone steps and dragged his finger down the door buzzer directory. Finally, he saw the names Styles/Horan on a tag. He pressed the button, the door clicking to let him in.

He walked quickly up two flights of steps. Harry leaned over the railing on the third floor, grinning, his wrists crossed in the air.

“Hello there.”

Louis unbuttoned his coat, pulling his shirt away from his chest for the last few steps.

“Hi. I think I need to incorporate more cardio in with yoga. I hate stairs.”

“I can help you up your cardio.”

He reached Harry's landing and prodded his stomach, Harry nudging the top of his head with his nose.

“I can stay fifteen minutes and fifteen minutes only,” Louis said, pocketing his phone. He offered Harry an apologetic smile. “I wish I had more time, but I have to go to a work thing. And I have to pick up dry cleaning before I go back to the office.”

“Understood.” Harry placed his hand on Louis' lower back and guided him inside the flat. “Thanks for making time. C'mon in.”

Louis stepped inside, glancing around the flat. It was smaller than his own and didn't seem to have as much space between each part of the apartment, but it was still a nice, spacious flat for two people. The spotless kitchen had a few more cooking gadgets and machines on the counters, an array of stainless steel pots hanging from a rack in the center of the ceiling. The living room furniture was mismatched, though it all worked well together in a neutral colors kind of way. Three potted plants rested on the living room window ledge, wisps of something green peeking over the top of the clay pots.

“Nice free coffee table,” Louis said, Harry laughing softly at his side. 

Everything was neat and clean, Louis' eyes drawn to a large window off to the right. He noted a small step ladder propped behind a full, but well organized, bookcase.

“Roof access?”

“Yup. Love it.”

“Nice.”

“Definitely. Wait until it's warm out. I'm on the roof more often than not.” Harry pulled his coat off his shoulders, nose brushing the back of his hair. “Can I get you anything?” He kissed behind his ear, Louis laughing and pawing his face away. “Water or something?”

“Nope, I'm fine, thanks.”

“You look really good in all black,” he said softly, words muffled by the fabric of Louis' coat.

“Thanks,” Louis said, smoothing his hands over the front of his black button down. 

Harry placed his coat on a hook mounted by the front door. He turned back to Louis.

“Thanks again for coming by. I know it's a busy day with work and all.”

“Well, when one receives a text like the message you sent me, a tight schedule gets a bit more flexible.”

Harry's dimples were on full display. He smiled down at Louis and moved closer, wrapping an arm around his waist. He bent forward slightly, kissing just under Louis' ear.

“You liked that idea?”

Louis was in a tense meeting with the entire staff, plus their office from Japan teleconferencing in, when he noticed Harry's name pop up on his silenced iPhone. He waited for a moment where the speaker changed before he looked at his phone. 

**had a dream you let me suck on your neck while i got us both off. can dreams come true sometime soon?**

A fresh flush of heat seared Louis' body.

“I'm here, aren't I?”

“Mmm. Yes, you are.” Harry stroked the side of his head, fingers playing in his longer strands of hair. His eyes arched off to the side before returning to Louis' face. “Sofa?”

“Sure.”

Louis leaned into his touch, his eyes lulling shut while Harry sucked gently under his jaw. Harry's other hand slid up the back of his shirt. 

“No bruises on my neck, though,” Louis said breathily. Harry's lips started to pout outwards. Louis opened his eyes and added, “This time, I mean.”

His pout morphed into a smile.

. . .

Louis slipped into his normal conference room seat and exhaled. He relaxed his neck and let his head rest against the top of his seat, his eyes fluttering shut. Zayn sat to his left, engrossed in something on his phone, and the receptionist Suzi ran in at the last minute to flop into the seat to his right, three mobile phones tumbling out of her hands onto the table. Simon sat heavily in the seat at the head of the table, a beer clasped between his fingers.

“Fuck these all nighters.”

Zayn said, “Aren't you the boss? Why don't you just peace out?”

Simon sipped his beer.

“Good point. I should just,” he held his fingers up in a peace sign towards Zayn and waggled his head, “peace out.” Zayn and the rest of the staff laughed, chairs squeaking against the floor while papers shuffled and iPads booted up. He tilted the tip of his bottle towards Louis. “Did you make it to the cleaners?”

Louis blinked sleepily at him. Simon had to raise his eyebrows before Louis remembered to form words. He smiled slow and easy, his eyes half shut. He shook his head at Simon, then looked down at his lap.

“No.” He fingered the end of a charcoal knit scarf looped around his neck, lifting it to tease over his lips. “They were closed.”

Simon chuckled.

“You seem awfully happy about missing out on the cleaners.”

Louis smiled and pulled the scarf tighter around his neck.

“Yeah.” 

Zayn nudged their knees together under the table.

“Did you go get a drink on break without me?”

“Nope,” Louis said, slipping his shoes off under the table. “I just went for a quick walk.” He couldn't stop smelling the soft knit scarf and smiling into the material. “Listened to some music.” He directed a smile at Zayn, Zayn's eyes dropping to a circle of reddened skin that appeared when the scarf shifted. “Relaxed.”

. . .

"You smell so sweet."

"Yeah, unfortunately.” Harry wiggled his toes at the end of the bed, his arms still resting above his head on the mattress. “Part of the job, I suppose."

Louis eyed Harry in his sprawled position on his back, pulling his duvet up to their hips. He rolled onto his stomach and dragged one fingertip over his ribs. Fresh goosebumps broke out over his damp skin. His finger circled up to his nipple and Harry shivered slightly. His body was always so responsive, the dark skin of his nipple tightening from the softest of strokes.

"Do you shower enough?"

Harry turned his head on the pillow.

"I think you would have noticed my lack of hygiene a few blowies ago, hm?” He nudged their toes together and smiled, then rolled his tongue at Louis. “Our last round of rim jobs, maybe?"

Louis hid his smile in the crook of Harry's elbow. 

"Gross.” He brought his eyes to Harry and found him smiling wide, his hands propped behind his head. Louis let his fingers wander along his inner bicep. “I can't believe you just did that thing with your tongue.”

“I seem to remember you enjoying it.”

Louis tweaked his nipple.

“I won't deny that I did.”

"Cologne plus constantly smelling like buttercream is not a good mix, so I don't wear it. Also, I've got sensitive skin and I try not to use anything scented. Hence, me smelling like,” he shrugged, the muscles of his arms pulling gracefully, “I dunno. A sugar plum fairy instead of a lumberjack."

Louis pushed himself up on one arm, eyebrows raised as he looked down at him.

"Please don't tell me you're one of those people that thinks that just because they don't believe in deodorant means they don't stink like everyone else on earth?"

"No," Harry laughed quietly, rubbing his foot on the back of Louis' calf. Soft hair brushed along his sole, the sensation sending shivers up his leg. "I wear scent free stuff, though I appreciate your concern about my body odor."

Louis pulled Harry's arm out from behind his head by holding his wrist, lifting it and straightened it in front of his body. He brought his nose to his wrist, turning his large hand over to smell the pulsing underside. He dragged his nose along the top of his forearm, his light hair giving way to tender skin. Harry's fingers waggled in the air while Louis sniffed him, amusement and relaxation radiating off of him. 

He sniffed higher, his nose brushing the inside of his elbow. Harry shuddered and chuckled softly, his fingers twitching. Louis smiled and rubbed his nose over the sweet smelling spot again. He glanced at Harry and opened his mouth, sucking gently on the thin skin. Harry let out a softer exhalation of a laugh, the skin under Louis' tongue seeming to pulse faster. 

“Feels nice,” he said, voice low and quiet in the warm bedroom.

Louis moved on to his outer bicep, nudging his nose on an endless line of fluttering muscles. The tip of his nose made contact with his shoulder, curving inward and almost at his collarbone. Harry's natural smell was soft, yet also definitely present in a masculine, spicy way. It was not overpowering in any way, more like an indicator that Harry was a clean male. The heat of his body warmed inside his nostrils like butter on a skillet, so different from the normal scent of overpriced cologne.

"So, this smell is all you?"

"Mmhmm."

Louis' eyes twinkled at him, nose nudging the outer curve of his shoulder.

"It's not a bad thing, I suppose."

Harry laughed once Louis reached his neck, his head attempting to fold in on itself.

"Tickles."

Louis smiled and released his wrist.

"It's not a bad thing,” Harry said back at him before rolling on top and burying his nose in his neck. Louis exclaimed a hybrid squawk and giggle, Harry inhaling even more of his neck and prompting another squirmed outburst. "Mmm,” his voice rumbled deep in his chest, Louis able to feel the vibrations, “you smell good, too. Really,” a soft kiss under his ear, “really good."

"But not like you, Sugar Plum."

Harry laughed, "Sugar Plum?" against his skin.

"Aww, baby," Louis said, stroking Harry's cheeks. He pulled his face up, his lips pursed forward in a sad pout. He shook his head side to side while mirroring the motions with Harry's face. "You don't like my pet name for you?” He released his face and fell onto his back, an arm wilted above his head. “I'm wounded."

Harry grinned slowly.

"You can call me whatever you want.”

“You might regret saying that.”

“And you might regret letting me into your bed.” Harry relaxed on his back and shut his eyes. “Especially after you tire me out. I'm gonna start dozing off.”

“Am I messing with your sleep schedule a lot?”

Harry's eyes opened, his arm reaching out to Louis. He squeezed his shoulder, shaking his head.

“No, not at all. Don't even worry about that. Besides, I like being tired.”

Louis ran his fingers through the front of Harry's hair, his bangs hanging over his eyes. 

“You like it?”

"Yeah, I love that feeling." 

Harry's voice stretched along with his limbs. His feet popped out the bottom of the duvet. The blanket inched down to reveal the beginning of his dark hair.

Louis looked at the smooth balls of his large feet as he arched his back and pointed his toes. His eyes drifted up his hip dents to his flat, soft stomach. He followed the stretching muscles of his arms until he reached his knuckles stroking idly against the headboard. 

“What feeling?”

Harry yawned and shivered, releasing his stretch. 

"Working so hard until you're dead tired."

Louis laughed, a light airy sound that shivered over their naked skin. He propped an arm behind his pillow and turned his head towards Harry, who looked suspiciously close to sleep.

"You love being tired?"

"I love the feeling of relief when I can rest after working to the point of being tired. It's," he thought for a beat, his lips rubbing together, "satisfying. I worked on a farm a while back--"

“What?” Louis laughed. “A farm?”

“I did,” Harry said, smiling and rubbing his fingers against the headboard. “I wanted to learn about milk and dairy. How it all works. And hang with some animals. That was so much fun.”

Harry looked at him then, soft green eyes and a softer smile, Louis' neck flushing with heat. He pushed through the heat, turning onto his side and propping his head up with one hand. He glanced down the length of Harry's body. He walked his fingers in a circle around his navel, relaxing his head on a pillow.

“I like tiring you out.”

Harry smiled, linking their ankles together under the duvet.

“I do, too.”

Louis held his gaze for a moment. Harry seemed content to stare at him and smile for the rest of time. He laughed and looked down, rolling off his side of the bed.

. . .

"So," Harry said from the top of the bed.

The word lingered in the air for a few moments, Louis too relaxed to move. He'd never spent so much time in his bedroom while Liam was out. He'd also never spent so much time laying head to foot with someone in bed. 

"What's so special about this Thor guy that's got you blowing strangers to practice?"

Louis cracked his eyes open, peering up at him. Harry was staring at the ceiling, his fingers pulling damp chunks of hair away from his forehead. Louis sighed, stretching his arms over his head.

"He...Uh...Like I said, it's not like I'm actually into him. He and I just..."

Harry propped an arm behind his head, giving Louis full view of his bicep and skin and soft hair and--

"He," Louis started again, looking to Harry's smiling face. He appeared not to have a care in the world, completely happy just lounging around naked. "He's…He's just…"

Harry raised his eyebrows, eyes crinkled with held back laughter. 

"He has impeccable taste in fonts.”

Harry blinked.

"Fonts?"

"Yes, fonts. They're very important and he always picks the right one."

"Fonts, like, Times New Roman?"

"Yes. Thank goodness you said Times and not something wretched like Comic Sans. I never would have been able to get hard around you again."

"So,” Harry lifted himself on his bent elbows, his arms tight to his sides, “you want to suck his uncut dick dry just because he picks excellent fonts?"

"It's more than that," Louis said, his voice weaker than usual. His brain raced to think of Thor. Blond hair down to his shoulders. A penchant for knit vests. A hate of all things Apple. Extra mustard on his sandwiches. "He just...I dunno."

They were silent for a moment. Louis stared at the ceiling, biting his bottom lip. For the life of him, he couldn't put words together to describe Thor in an arousing way. He couldn't place what exactly it was about him that was so exciting. 

Harry's thumb lightly ran up the sole of his foot.

"Oi," he said, curling his toes and rolling his foot to the side. "Leave me alone."

"You looked so serious. And your feet are stinking up the bed."

"They are not," Louis said, Harry's throaty laughter cutting through the room. "I'll have you know," Louis started to giggle his words, "that I take excellent care of my feet to make sure they don't stink."

"Ah, yes. Because of your no sock rule?"

"Oh, do shut up," Louis said, shoving his foot in his face.

Rather than recoiling, Harry laughed and gripped his ankle, biting his arch.

"Harry!" 

Louis flipped onto his stomach. Hearty laughter shook his body while Harry bit up the back of his leg. 

"Oh, my--Fucking God." Louis smiled into his pillow, his nose crinkling and his toes curling. Harry's nose nudged his lower back, his mouth sucking downwards. “Again?” He spread him open with his thumbs, lathing a slow lick over his entrance, watching the muscles of his lower back flutter up and down. He shuddered, breathing out, “Again,” against the top of his own arm. "Is there anything you don't like putting in your mouth?"

Harry pulled his mouth away, long enough for Louis to look over his shoulder.

"Peas," he said with a firm nod. He bit a kiss onto Louis' left cheek, sucking the skin into his mouth. "I don't fancy peas."

Louis moaned, “Fuck,” and pressed his face into his pillow. “Fuck, that feels amazing, but Liam and Zayn will be back soon. We should,” his toes curled and his eyes slammed shut, his feet rolling in a circle, “stop. We need to stop.”

Harry hummed, kissing a circle on Louis' left arse cheek.

“Womp womp.”

Louis' stomach shook with laughter. Harry smiled as his kissed up to Louis' lower back, his hands warm on his sides. His arms wrapped around Louis' body, hand flat on his chest and stomach. His face rested in the dip of his back, hair brushing between Louis' shoulder blades. He whispered something that Louis missed, but thought sounded like, “So lovely.” 

Louis crossed his ankles, nudging his feet under Harry's thighs.

“You're cuddly today, Sugar Plum.”

“Mmmhmm. Love a good cuddle.”

Louis shut his eyes for a moment, comfort wrapping her silky smooth tendrils around him and threatening to pull him into a cozy, warm sleep. Harry hitched the duvet up over their bodies, his face barely peeking out from his position on Louis' back.

“I kind of want to take a nap.”

“Mmm.” Harry hummed lower and rubbed his face against him, fingers stroking circles on his stomach. “Nap. Yes, please.”

“Come up here.”

Louis turned over and reached down, his hands looping under Harry's arms.

“Alright,” Harry glued his arms to his sides, “I'm up, I'm up,” he said, huffing quick laughs. He sat up in bed, pulling the duvet up to cover his center. “I'm up, I'm...” He slinked away from Louis' terrifyingly large, excited smile. “What's with the look?”

“As a friend with benefits,” Louis held his hand over his heart, “it is my right to know all of your ticklish spots in order of sensitivity.” 

“I'm more of a show than tell kind of guy. Find out for yourself, you know?” 

He went for Louis' feet before he realized what was happening.

“No!” Louis laughed, holding out the vowel and pulling his legs. Harry's arm held strong around his ankles, the duvet wrapped tight around his torso. “Harry, I'll kick, I fucking swear I will.” 

“Yeah?”

Harry lifted his fingers and kept them in the air about an inch from his arches. Louis was already laughing, just from Harry smiling at him and waggling his fingers, his attempts at kicking futile. Harry's arms were like an octopus, immobilizing his legs from the knee down.

“No, no, no- _ohohoh!_ ”

“So,” Harry poised one finger and spoke over Louis' breathy laughter, “where on the spectrum of sensitivity is this foot?”

He barely let his finger tip stroke along his right sole, Louis laughing, “Ha- _ahah-ahah_ -rry!” and arching on the bed.

The sound made Harry giggle along with him, amusement lighting his eyes.

“Wow, your feet really are soft.” He started touching his other sole, Louis bursting into louder giggles and squirming against his grip. “I guess you weren't lying about taking care of them.” 

Louis' phone vibrated on his bedside table. Harry looked at the dancing phone and let go of his legs, giving Louis an in to wrap them around his body.

“Hey,” Harry laughed, pulling against Louis' iron grip thighs. He jerked to the side and laughed low in his throat, delicate fingers prodding his sides at about nipple height. “Louis, your phone--” He laughed louder as the prods grew to a rib massage, Louis' legs holding on for the ride as he rolled them to the other side of the bed. “You're merciless!”

“Ride 'em, cowboy!” Louis said on a holler, arm lassoing in the air. “Did you learn how to do this on the farm?”

Harry bucked and Louis fell on his back on the bed. Louis looked up at him with wide eyes, already laughing before Harry even covered him with his body. Harry took a dramatic breath in and blew a raspberry on his neck, Louis laughing, “Harry!” at the top of his lungs. 

Harry's raspberry turned into a playful suck, his hands sliding up Louis' chest before he wrapped him in his arms. Louis moaned softly, grinding up into him, his head tilting to the left. Harry's mouth planted wet, slow kisses down to his collarbone, Louis' hands sliding into his hair.

“You're so fucking fun,” Harry breathed, biting on his nipple.

Louis scratched his scalp, Harry's lips kissing down his stomach. Their laughter turned into deep, heavy breaths, Louis' body rolling up to meet Harry's touch.

“Fuck, you're hot,” Louis panted, his head tilting back on the pillow. “Make me so hot.”

His eyes fell shut, Harry sucking him into his mouth with a soft slurp. Louis smiled and tugged Harry's hair, his shaky exhalations matching the rhythm of Harry's hummed sucks. 

The sound of his phone vibrating jarred them both from their haze. Louis groaned through his nose and let his hand fall from Harry's hair. 

“Liam'll be home in fifteen,” Louis said, without having to look at the phone. "That was my alarm."

Harry pulled his mouth off, kissing his groin until he reached his inner thigh. Louis smiled down at him, twirling a piece of his hair behind his ear. 

“You like my legs?”

Harry smiled, pressing his face into Louis' thigh. He took a tiny bite of skin between his teeth, kissing the spot of bloomed red. 

“Maybe.” 

He sat up on the bed, rolling his neck side to side. He stood up and ran his hands through his hair, his arse swaying while he stretched. Louis flattened on his side, eyes scanning the tawny backs of his knees. Harry's head tilted towards the bathroom door.

“Do I have time to shower? Really quick, I promise. I need to run a few errands before I go home and you made me all sweaty.”

“Yeah, sure,” Louis said, sprawled on his back. He stretched his hands over his head and bent his legs, pressing his feet into the mattress. Harry held eye contact, but his right eyebrow rose. “No worries.”

“Cool,” Harry grinned, leaning on the doorway. His eyes dropped down to Louis' middle, then snapped back to his face, cheeky glint present in his smile. “I'll have to tickle you more often, hm?”

Louis looked down the path of his gaze and smiled, pulling the duvet over his stiff cock. He listened to the shower turn on, Harry waiting only three seconds before getting inside. He relaxed on his back, running his fingers through his hair. His fingers picked up some of his own sweat, his face still hot.

“Actually,” he said, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He padded into the steamy bathroom. “Lemme in.”

Harry opened the floor to ceiling glass shower door, water streaming down his lithe limbs. The hair on his stomach looked a touch darker, Louis' mouth watering.

“It's your shower.”

Louis waited off to the side while Harry finished soaping himself up with body wash, keeping his hair away from the water. Harry lifted his arms and rinsed under the pounding stream, soap suds dragging down the front of his body. He spun around to rinse his back. He prodded at Louis' shin with his foot.

“Are you going to get under?”

“Mutually beneficial showers are a myth,” Louis said from against the wall. “You finish and then I'll get under.”

Harry shook his body and stepped out of the water. They swapped positions, Louis dousing his face and entire body. He quickly worked shampoo through his hair, rinsing and shaking his head under the water. He sighed and rolled his neck while conditioning, strong thumbs rubbing the backs of his shoulders. 

“Mmm, fucking nice.”

“But what about shower sex?”

“I mean, yeah, it's fun having sex in the shower if it's a big, porn set shower with perfect water pressure.”

“Like the shower we're in right at this moment? I mean, you've got a bench in your shower.”

“But otherwise,” Louis continued, pressing his heel on top of Harry's toes, “it's really hard--”

“Hard, hmm?”

Louis reached behind himself and squeezed Harry's hip, Harry yelping and arching away.

“It's _hard_ to mutually enjoy a shower.”

Harry stopped massaging and stepped out, Louis craning his neck backwards.

“Then you're not doing something right, Lou.”

Louis laughed and rinsed his face, his eyes squinted shut.

“I assure you, I've fucked around in showers before. My theory is not based on hypothesis alone.”

“Fuck around with me in a shower.” Harry pulled a towel off the highest shelf of the bathroom closet. “Let me keep you in there a while.” He smiled over his shoulder, drops of water pooling at his feet on the tile floor. “We'll make it work. I have faith.”

“Harry,” Louis said, nudging the water off. He stood at the shower door, Harry handing him a fresh towel. He started drying himself off. “If I'm on my knees blowing you, I either have to stay out of the water and get cold, or I have to be under the water and drowning to stay warm. If we're mutually pleasuring each other, we both will be under the water drowning. Even fucking for real can be a pain logistics wise.”

Harry toweled his balls, a thoughtful look on his face.

“You don't have to put your head under the water.” He swiped the towel under his right arm. “Just let the water hit the rest of your body while you enjoy whatever sexual activity you decide on.”

“Well, you can try that next time and we'll see how it goes.”

“You just want shower head.” Harry smiled, ruffling Louis' wet hair. “That's what this entire speech about shower sex was for, hm?”

“Um, no,” Louis giggled, flicking Harry's right nipple. “Not quite.”

Harry threw his wet towel over Louis' head and slapped his arse.

“Thanks for the hot water and soap.”

“You're an idiot,” Louis called through the towel, Harry cackling in the bedroom. 

“Oh, and the sex, too. That was alright.”

Louis smiled and pulled the towel off his head, tossing it in the laundry basket. He heard his phone vibrate again. 

“Shit.”

He ran into his room. His towel fell off his hips while he silenced the alarm. He watched Harry's back muscles dance as he pulled up his jeans, his upper back curved forward while buttoning himself up.

Harry bent over and snagged his shirt, quickly tucking his head inside. Louis felt a pang in his lower belly. He picked up his towel and wrapped it around his waist.

“I'm sorry to make you leave so fast.”

Harry turned to him, half bent over with one foot attempting to fit in his boot. He smiled and shook his head. 

“It's alright.”

“No, you were so...” Louis gestured towards the mussed bed. “You were comfortable. And I made you get up. I'm a shit host to kick you out of bed like that. I'm sorry, that was just...” He crossed his arms over his chest, stepping on his own left foot. “I'm sorry.”

Harry walked up to him, one boot on, one foot bare. He squeezed Louis' shoulder.

“Hey,” he said softly, “it's alright.” He chuckled under his breath, thumbing the lowest part of his neck. “You're not a shit host. Not at all. You just don't want your roommate to know about your sex life, which is totally fine. Totally understandable and not offensive at all.” He leaned forward, giving Louis' neck three soft kisses in a row. The heel of his hand cupped his face. “Don't worry about it.”

Louis smiled and breathed, “Okay,” stepping back from warm, soapy Harry. He straightened his tee on his shoulders, palming down the exposed vee of his chest. “See you soon?”

After pulling on his final sock and boot, Harry was escorted to the door of the flat. Louis squeezed his arse as he left, both of their laughs echoing around the hallway of his building. Harry scrolled through his phone messages, thumbs flying over the screen. He heard voices approaching the stairs and stepped to the side on a landing, waiting to let them pass.

He looked up when they reached his level. A smile of recognition lit between the three men.

“Oh, hi again,” the dark haired one said. “Alright?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Harry said. He stepped around them, the sturdier one studying him as he passed. “See you around.”

“Tall. Green eyes,” the sturdier one blurted out, lifting his hand towards him. “You.”

Harry blinked at the person pointing at him.

“Sorry?”

“Where do I—Why am I remembering--” He gaped at him for a second, then smiled happily. “Oh! Are you Harry?”

Harry paused, eying the sturdy looking man who was smiling at him from two steps up and who apparently knew his name. The dark haired one snapped his fingers before pointing at him and asking, “You know Louis, right?” 

“Um,” Harry's brain connected the two people talking to him in the hallway with the two other people in Louis' New Years Eve photo, “yes.” The word came out slowly, as if he didn't know whether to admit he knew their friend. “Yes, I do.”

“I'm Liam,” Sturdy said, holding his hand out. “I'm Louis' roommate. And this is Zayn,” Dark Haired shook Harry's hand, “my boyfriend.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Harry said, smiling. He looked at Liam. “You have a really lovely home.”

“Thank you,” Liam said with a gentle smile and tilt of his head, somehow managing to sound truly, genuinely flattered. “We do try to keep the place presentable.”

Zayn asked, “You swap CDs with him, right?”

Harry's mouth stuck open for a beat, Zayn staring curiously at him. And Jesus, those lashes.

“I told Louis that I want in the next time,” Zayn said, pulling his phone out. “Maybe we should exchange information, just incase he forgets?”

“Um,” Harry looked between Liam and Zayn, “I'm not sure what sort of arrangement you two have, but, uh, I'm not so much into the whole guest star thing. Sorry to disappoint.”

Liam and Zayn both squinted at him. They looked at each other, then back to Harry.

“What do you—Oh!” Liam's hearty laughter boomed in the hallway. “Oh, fuck, no. No, no. That's--” He put his arm around Zayn's shoulder and squeezed him. “I forgot to explain the whole CD thing.” He smiled at Harry. “Sorry, we're not on the same page. He meant actual music, not...” Liam's eyes widened. “CDs.”

Zayn looked quite confused, his pouting face looking from Harry to Liam.

“What? Explain what? What the fuck are you both talking about?”

Harry smiled shyly, hiding his mouth with his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from my favorite Tegan and Sara song, [ Relief Next To Me ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yftgnkdan8%20)
> 
> Come say hello on [ LJ](http://dolce-piccante.livejournal.com) and [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of chatting, a bit of naked time, then a bit more chatting. A healthy mix chapter! Over 8k words. Y'all are saints for reading such long chapters.
> 
> Warning: Light bondage reference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, snow days and working from home has led to an earlier update than usual. To everyone who commented and left kudos, THANK YOU! :D
> 
> Huge thank you to [Jess](whitechimes.tumblr.com) for her incredible support and help and patience! Also, thank you to my boo D for being a lovely cheerleader! 
> 
> Enjoy!

_i kept having thoughts of you working on a farm and oops...i might have just jerked off_

Louis' phone vibrated on his bed five minutes later. He smiled at the photo on the screen and paused the program on his laptop, plucking his headphones out. His thumb brushed the screen to accept the call. He lifted it to his ear.

“Yes?”

“You can't send me texts like that and not expect a followup call. You just can't.”

“Ooh, a followup,” he said, crossing his ankles under the duvet. “Sounds like you're a doctor.”

“Would you like that?” Harry's voice dropped, the tempo of his words lazy. “For me to play doctor with you?”

Louis smiled, his nose wrinkling, laughter bubbling in his stomach. He rubbed himself through his boxers and hummed, his body still tender to the touch.

“Dunno. Maybe,” he said, his eyes lulling closed. He heard Harry breathe in, the shifting of fabric soft in the background. Louis' lips curved upwards. “Your voice sounds good through the phone.”

Harry was silent for a moment, then swallowed audibly.

“Now I'm hard because of you.”

Louis slid his laptop to the right side of the bed, easing himself onto his side.

“I'm honoured.”

“I can hear it in your voice that you just came.”

Louis laughed then, a breathy, soft sighed laugh that made Harry moan.

“How can you tell?”

Harry hummed, taking another slow, lazy breath in. 

“You sound more relaxed. A bit...Airy, or something. Mellow.” 

He held the _m_ in _mellow_ just a few fractions of a second too long for normal speech. Louis' ears started to burn, a smile sliding over his face.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“I am.”

He smiled wider, asking, “Do you like the way I sound?”

“I do.”

Louis rubbed his big toes together, glancing at his closed bedroom door. He shut his laptop and placed it on his bedside table. The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills could wait another day.

“Where are you right now?”

“In bed.”

“Ready for sleep?”

“I was, until around five minutes ago.”

“What are you wearing?”

Harry softly gasped, “Louis!” He clucked his tongue three times fast. “I'm outraged you'd ask a forward question like that with such filthy implications. That's so unlike you.”

Louis chuckled and turned out the lamp on his bedside table.

“I'm just asking so I can set the scene in my mind.” He settled on his back. “I'm a very visual thinker, you know.”

“Nothing.”

“Mmm. I thought you'd say that.”

Harry made a sound through the phone that most definitely rang like a moan.

“Tell me what you thought about. With the farm. And...Me.”

Louis thought of the best possible way to tease a good beg out of Harry over the phone. Then Harry murmured, “Please, Lou?”

“Fuck, you know that boyish shit does me in.”

Louis smiled at the sound of his deep laughter. He stroked his fingers up the center of his chest, idly brushing over a nipple. He listened to Harry's choppy breathing for a few seconds, vignettes flashing through his heating brain. How to express that his visions of him as a farmer grew from the most boring of farm work to Harry naked and sweating on bales of hay in a candlelit barn? 

“It started out innocent,” Louis said, Harry's next breath muffled against his phone. “You were just...Cutting grass. Weeding. Riding a tractor. Wearing plaid shirts. Then not wearing plaid shirts.”

Harry chuckled softly.

“That sounds accurate enough.”

“At around lunch time I guess I was feeling...sentimental or something. So Farmer Harry in my head started to play with baby animals.” Louis giggled to himself, curling on his side in his sheets. “Little ducklings and baby chicks and puppies and you even carried a little lamb. The chicks were my favorite because I imagined them as, like, little balls of fluff attacking you, but you were laughing and loved them.”

“Pretty accurate. Though I usually got stuck with the pigs and horses.”

“Can you ride a horse?”

“I can.”

Louis' hand slid down his stomach and he sighed, palming himself through his boxers. Harry's rough voice added, “I can ride lots of things,” and Louis could see his smile in his head. The words _I bet you can_ , almost slipped out of his lips. Instead, he pressed onward.

“Then you were in a barn,” he said, swallowing saliva that had pooled under his tongue. He gripped himself tighter, a deep hum vibrating through the phone. “Were there barns on your farm?”

“Yes, of course.”

“How am I supposed to know? I've never been on a farm in my life.”

Harry laughed and said, “Alright. So, I'm in the barn?”

“Yeah, and then...”

Louis licked his lips and nibbled on the bottom one, staring at shadows as they danced over his pillow. They were entering territory that caused him to miss his stop on the tube due to him staring straight ahead at the back of a man in front of him, his iPhone playing the song [ Infinity](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JCBm5VbwJvY) by The xx on repeat.

“Then?” Harry prompted.

“Then...It sort of...It sort of got a bit...Romance novel-ish.”

“Tell me,” Harry said faster. He cleared his throat, Louis grinning into his pillow. “I mean, if you want to tell me.”

“It's not my style of fantasy, but...It kind of worked.”

“What kind of worked?”

“I'm going to be shit at describing this in a phone sex way.”

“I don't care about that,” Harry said, laughing softly. “I'm honestly curious. I like how your brain works.”

“You...” Louis rolled onto his stomach, the rhythmic thuds from Harry's end slowing but still present. He started to touch himself properly, Harry's comment about his brain making him throb in his fist. “You had on these really tight blue jeans and a plaid shirt. Red and black, with a red bandana around your head.”

“Mmhmm.”

“And you were using a pitchfork to shovel huge mounds of hay. And then you, uh, ripped it open because you were getting hot. Your shirt, I mean.”

“Yeah, getting hot,” Harry said, though Louis could not place whether he meant to say those words aloud.

“And then...And so you had your shirt off and you were...You were...” Louis clenched his eyes shut, beads of water racing behind his lids. “Your chest was so fucking sweaty--”

“Do you like it sweaty?”

“I do,” Louis answered, his own honesty causing his face to heat. “And then I...” His breath hitched when he heard Harry moan, the rhythm of his stokes speeding up. “I was there.”

“Mmm. What were you doing there?”

“I was just walking by the barn.”

“You were totally perving on me.”

“Excuse me,” his eyes opened, “this was my fantasy. How do you know I was perving on you?”

“Keep going.”

“And then it gets a bit blurry. The barn had candles,” he giggled, Harry giggling along with him, “all over. It was so hot in there and then you...”

“I?”

“I can't believe I'm saying this out loud.”

“You're doing so good. I'm hard as fuck just from the sound of your voice.”

Louis groaned and squeezed his head, furrowing his brows.

“You picked me up over your shoulder and threw me down onto a pile of hay.”

A strangled sound was quickly muffled.

“You liked that?” Harry asked, his voice strained. “You liked me doing that?”

“Yeah, I did, which is so not like me, but—But it worked.” Louis sped his hand up to match Harry's breaths. “And you...You had rope on your belt and I pulled you onto me with it--”

Harry exhaled, “ _Fuck_ , Lou--”

“--And then you tied my hands together.”

“Louis--”

“And held them down over my head and the rope was digging into my skin--”

“ _Louis_ ,” Harry moaned louder, the sound breaking.

“And fucking—It burned but it felt so good and then--” Louis's mouth stuck open, his hand frantic over his own cock. His words tumbled out at a rapid pace, throat gasping for air in order to keep up. “I couldn't finish the scene in my head because I was on the train and I was getting frustrated and my brain kept getting stuck at that point, but I just kept thinking over and over of when you held my arms down--”

Harry grunted and rasped, “Fuck, coming,” before his voice went distant and soft, his breaths uneven in the background. “Jesus Christ, Louis,” Harry whispered through the thick air. He panted for a few seconds, a high frequency ringing in Louis' ears. “You drive me fucking wild.” 

Louis gasped and pressed his face into his mattress, his arse lifted in the air and his eyes rolling back in his head. 

“That's it, come on,” Harry's voice murmured, Louis' stomach pushing a grunt out his mouth before he shot hot into his boxers. Harry's low murmurs continued while his body clenched and released. “Fuck yes, Louis. So fucking hot.”

“Shit,” Louis groaned as softly as he could, his hand slowing on his throbbing cock. “Fucking hell.”

He took his hand out of his boxers and wiped his palm on the front. He collapsed on his belly, his body boneless in his bed.

“You made me make a mess, Harry.”

Harry laughed, his voice now taking on the mellow, round tone of pleased exhaustion.

“You did, too. S'okay, though.” Louis forgot to breathe when he heard what possibly was sucking sounds from Harry's end, sucks that would come from licking the tips of one's fingers. “Nothing I can't take care of.”

Louis lifted his bum off the bed and pulled his boxers down, swiping them over his groin. He tossed them on the floor, his throwing arm falling on the pillow above his head.

“Did you put your face in your pillow? To keep quiet, I mean.”

“Nah. I bit my hand.”

“Rough.”

“I don't mind.”

“So,” Louis sighed and itched his hair, “I guess we just had phone sex.”

Harry chuckled, “Yeah, I guess so.” 

Louis listened to his body shifting in bed, much calmer than the jerks of his body while he listened to Louis' farm tale. 

“Are you ready for bed?”

A yawn came through the phone.

“Yeah, definitely. Knackered now.”

“Alright. I've got to go back to what I was doing before you so rudely interrupted me.”

“And what was that?”

Louis eyed his laptop, the apple glowing in his dark bedroom.

“I was....working on a project.”

“Liar,” Harry drawled, slow and deep. Louis' stomach fluttered again. “You were probably watching porn on your laptop.”

“I was not!” Louis laughed loudly, curling on his side and letting the phone rest on his cheek. He smiled at the sound of Harry laughing his quiet laugh. He had many laughs, but his quiet one was among the most aurally appealing. “That's false.”

“Oh, yeah?” Harry's tone was playful, his voice going up at the end as if he already knew the answer. “What were you watching?”

Louis' answer of, “Breaking Bad,” took three seconds to come out, Harry humming his disapproval.

“What happened to your work project?”

“Ugh, Harry,” he groaned, “I can't answer such quick questions at the moment,” Louis said on a little giggle, rubbing his hand over his face. “I just came twice because of you and had to keep my voice down because Liam and Zayn are busy having loud sex in Liam's room and I need to mentally recover.”

“Aw, poor baby. Want me to come over and help you through this difficult time in your life?”

“I'm hanging up now.”

“Goodnight,” Harry sang softly, his voice even smoother in song. “Sweet dreams.”

“Night,” Louis said, ending the call. 

He watched Harry's picture disappear from his phone, smiling at his home screen for a few seconds. He blinked and plopped his phone on his bed. He rolled onto his back, running both hands through his hair. His phone vibrated once, falling against his ribs. 

He picked up the phone and smirked, a new text from Harry. He opened the message, his toes scrunching under the blankets once he saw a photo of Harry's hand in his moonlit bedroom, angry red teeth marks bitten into the fleshy top of his hand, just around his thumb.

**your fault xx**

. . .

"I still don't get it."

"Hmm?"

"What's so special about Thor?"

Louis pulled his mouth off Harry's cock, jerking him with his right hand while licking his glistening lips.

"Am I blowing you that poorly?"

Harry shook his head, his cock twitching in Louis' slick hand.

"No,” he smiled and humped his hips up, “you always feel amazing."

"Then why the,” he sucked on the left side of his balls, “questions?"

Harry's lower belly quivered, his thigh muscles flexing in Louis' peripheral vision. Louis lathed his tongue in a wide circle, pushing his tongue hard enough against Harry's balls so that he could feel the flesh giving way to his licks.

"'Fuck,” Harry panted, closing his legs, his thigh trembling on either side of Louis' face. Louis grunted and held onto his inner thighs, pushing them open again. He sucked his other ball into his mouth, Harry shakily sighing, “I-I'm just curious."

Louis was distracted by the _clickclickclick_ his hand made on Harry's cock, the tip deep rose and dripping with precome.

"Your thighs are unfair."

He kept jerking him, but opened his mouth on the crease of his groin and thigh, his lips playing in the soft hair. Harry smelled sharper there, the skin extra salty. He kissed to the baby soft skin of his inner thigh. Harry moaned and spread his legs wider, his knees falling to the sides.

"Mmm, more.” He rubbed his hand over his chest, tugging on his right nipple, his left hand clenching in the duvet. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, lower back arching and taking the damp sheet with him. “Right there."

Louis smiled against his skin, kissing and licking each inner thigh until Harry was cursing under his breath, his hips lifting off the bed to meet Louis' hand. He brought their eyes together, his brows raising calmly.

“Should I put my mouth on your cock or keep it here? You're enjoying it so much.”

“Cock.”

"You wanna come in my mouth?"

Harry's sweating face clenched, the vee of his abs trembling. He nodded and groaned, low and long and delirious, his head lolling on the pillow. 

"Or on my face, maybe?”

"Mouth," Harry rasped. "Suck me." He opened his eyes and smiled down at Louis, hair falling in his eyes. "Please, Louis?"

"Mmm, so polite.”

He sucked his head once and let his lips pop off, then deep throated him, his mouth tight as a vice around Harry's cock. Harry's howled moan rang in his ears, his body coming apart in a handful of sucks.

Ten minutes later, Harry was still too wrecked to move off the bed, his limbs sprawled over the entire mattress. He was like a starfish, a naked, well hung starfish. Louis was dozing at his side, curled with his back to Harry. His foot brushed Harry's ankle each time they inhaled or exhaled in unison.

“He said he saw a future with me."

Harry's eyes moved under his closed lids. Did Louis actually speak or was he in a blow job induced coma?

"Hmm?" He cleared his throat, light assaulting his eyes once his lids opened. "What?"

"He…He and I were kind of drunk at the company Christmas party.” Louis curled the big toe on his left foot over his other toes, the motion making the sheets hiss ever so softly. “I told you that, right?”

“Yeah.” He placed his hand carefully on Louis' hip and thumbed underneath his black boxer briefs, just an easy circle over his hip bone. “Yeah, you did.”

Louis let Harry's gentle pull roll him onto his back. He looked up at Harry's gaze, any sign of orgasmic stupor washed from his face.

“And he…” He smiled, squinting at the ceiling. “He said that he'd had a thing for me for a while,” his brows shot up, “which was absolute news to me. We'd worked together for years and, yeah, we were good work friends, but I never picked up on any sort of vibe about something more.” His face relaxed, throat bobbing to swallow. “And then he said he could see us opening our own firm one day, settling down together, the whole shebang. I guess he was pretty drunk. We both sort of joked about it when we left the party and I haven't really talked to him since he moved." 

Louis laughed absently, running his fingers over the center of his bare chest. He tapped his fingertips over his heart, able to feel Harry's unwavering gaze without looking at him. 

"If you would have asked me a year ago if I wanted to settle down, I'd have laughed in your face. A few months ago, even. But for some reason, when he mentioned it, I...I was into it. The idea of it." Softer, he added, “Really into it.”

Harry turned over onto his side, his ankles crossed at the bottom of the bed. He rubbed his cheek against a pillow, puffing it up under his face and tucking a hand underneath.

"What changed?"

"I dunno, actually,” Louis said, confusion lightening his tone. “I guess I just really...” He rolled his head on the pillow, the blue of his eyes extra electric that afternoon. He smiled, Harry's face mirroring him with a wider smile. “I like the idea of being with one person. A person I can actually tolerate in everyday life that I also love having sex with.” Louis looked back to the ceiling, Harry's fingers rubbing the duvet next to his ribs. “Someone I trust. Someone who is a fully formed person who can stand on their own.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“I know it's not realistic to imagine being with one person until the end of time, but I'd be willing to give it a shot."

"I think you can be monogamous without feeling tied down, if you were to find the right person."

"I know. I just…It's never worked out like that for me." Louis turned on his side towards Harry. He tucked his hand under his head, Harry pulling the covers up over his middle. There was distance between them, but the duvet melded to their warm skin, keeping both comfortable. "I guess I was,” his cheeks colored before he could control the rush of blood to his face, “flattered that someone would want that with me. And he's…Attractive. Smart. A nice person. My past boyfriends, if you'd even call them that, were not usually that particular mix."

Louis shrugged his top shoulder. Harry pulled the duvet up higher, smoothing his hand over his outer bicep. Louis watched the motion, his eyes moving in the easy pattern of Harry's hand.

"Do you have feelings for Thor?"

Louis' smiling eyes snapped to his face. He prodded his navel.

"You're awfully quick with the questions."

Harry smiled and rolled onto his back. He flattened his arms at his sides, palms down on the bed. 

"You play your cards so close to your chest, Lou.” He rolled his body up, glancing at him over his shoulder. His smile was still there, but something pinched at the corner's of his mouth, like there was a limit on his normally effortless smile. “A boy gets hungry for information."

He slid his legs over the edge of the bed and bent over. He pulled his tee over his head. Louis pushed his torso off the bed with his bottom arm, blinking at Harry's muscled back as it was covered by cascading white cotton.

"What do you mean?"

Harry stood up in just his tee and turned, his dick resting against his thigh.

“It's nothing bad or anything. I just meant that you're a private person.” He pulled his boxers on and adjusted them until they were low on his hips. “It's fine.” He smiled as he picked up his jeans. “You look so distressed,” he laughed softly, pulling his jeans up his legs. “I didn't mean anything by it.”

His head dropped, fingers buttoning himself up.

“But you said it.”

Harry's eyes arched in a half circle, as if he was checking the height of the ceiling. He looked back to Louis.

“Yeah, because I think it's true.” He shrugged on a thick knit blue sweater, his hair frizzing at the ends once his head popped through. “Is there a problem with me saying you seem like a private person?”

“No, not a problem.” Louis sat up with his back on the headboard. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn't think I was particularly private around you.”

Harry pulled on his right sock.

“You don't?”

“No, not really.”

“What's your last name?”

Louis' mouth popped open. Harry raised his eyebrows when no sound came out, smiling as he put on his other sock.

“That's what I thought,” Harry chuckled, swiping his trainers off the floor. He pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket and scrolled his thumb quickly. “Ah, I gotta run.” He grabbed his coat and threw it over his shoulder, his trainers dangling from his fingers. He opened the bedroom door and backed out. “Thanks, mate. It was fucking hot, as always.” He bumped his shoulder into the doorframe and laughed in surprise, his socked feet sliding on the hardwood. “See you around.”

Louis waved from his bed, his hand falling limp to his side. He pursed his lips forward, staring at the wall in front of his bed.

“I can't leave you with that face on.”

Louis looked shocked at the open door, Harry running back in the room and his belongings dropping to the floor.

“Harry,” he laughed, Harry launching his body at the bed. 

The protons and electrons and neutrons and any other particles floating about felt recharged, like somebody hit the play button on his bed. Harry straddled him, his legs on top of Louis' blanket covered hips. Louis started to giggle, throaty, high sounds that bubbled out of him as Harry kissed all over his neck, his lips extra fast and loud. 

“What are you doing?” His stomach shook while he laughed properly, fingers gently wiggling into his sides. “You said you had to go!”

Harry sat back and panted, still straddling Louis.

“You looked so un-Louis like that I had to put that,” he bopped his nose with his finger, “smile back on your face.”

He pushed Louis' hair off his forehead, leaning closer. Louis watched his lips come closer, his breath brushing against his chin, until Harry tilted his head, softly kissing his cheek. Louis sucked a breath in through his nose, eyes darting from Harry's lips to his eyes.

“Are we okay?” Harry asked, thumbing his cheekbone. “I didn't mean to push you. Just before, I mean. We have so much fun together and I don't want to...Push you, you know?”

“Yeah, of course,” Louis said quickly. He nodded, pressing his lips together. “We're fine.”

“It's just...” Harry's hand dropped to his bare chest. “I kind of...” He smiled and watched his fingers travel down to Louis' stomach. “I like being around you. When we have clothes on or off.” He bit his bottom lip, squinting at him. “You get that, right?”

“Yeah,” Louis said, still nodding. And if he was being honest, no, he did not get that. But now he did. He definitely did. “Yes. I get it. I mean,” he shrugged one shoulder and scoffed, “I'm pretty amazing,” Harry laughed, “so it makes total sense.”

“And I'm not trying to pry. I just like learning about you. I like learning about all my friends, whether I suck their cock or not.”

“How many friends do you have where you suck their cock?”

Harry pinched his nipple and grinned.

“When you tell me your last name, I'll tell you how many cocks I'm currently sucking.”

. . .

The weekend was upon them faster than usual. Louis, not one to take days off from work, had requested off on Friday, making the weekend seem extra long and sudden.

He checked his watch as he pushed the door of Helena's Bakery. Why did it always seem like he had to wake up extra early for activities on his off days, which eliminated the point of off days?

The door barely opened wide enough for Louis to step inside, a crowd of people spreading throughout the entire sugar scented space. There were couples sitting at the tiny tables along the walls, pastries and steaming cups of espresso dotted along the pastel colored table tops. There were groups of people at the counter, waiting in line and watching the disappearing loaves of bread like hungry hawks. Stragglers stood around the bakery in small bunches, chit chatting about this and that while bouncing a baby on their hip, or offering advice about how to get a grease stain out of a silk blouse while raving about the chocolate chip scones that morning.

Louis hitched his overnight bag higher on his shoulder and took his place in line. He pushed his black sunglasses up onto his head. Though the bakery was crowded, the line was moving at a snappy pace. He was three people from the front when he could see behind the wide cream colored counter top. A tall body appeared from the back, a tray that looked too large to be carried by a human balanced in his hands as if it weighed nothing.

He stared at Harry as he laughed and said something to a woman with a very plump baby boy in her arms. He placed the tray in an empty spot behind the counter and continued chatting with her while his hands wrapped up two loaves of seeded bread so fresh Louis could practically taste them. He was wearing all white, a crisp apron tied around his body. His shirt looked strange, short sleeved and stiff with a small collar, but no buttons. His hair was pushed down by a white hat that wrapped around his head. 

He dropped his gaze, shuffling closer to the older gentleman in front of him. 

“Morning, Mr. Marshall,” Harry's polite voice said. It sounded just as melodic in the bustling bakery as it did when his face was between Louis' legs. “The usual?”

“Yes, thank you,” the man said, shaking hands pulling a few notes out of his wallet.

Louis bit his bottom lip and looked up, then noticing the intricate brass tiles stretched along the ceiling. He had no problem running into people and saying hello in pubs or the grocery store, but something about seeing Harry at work was making his stomach feel funny. 

“Louis?”

He looked forward, Harry smiling confusedly at him with his hands on his hips.

“Hi,” Louis said, stepping forward. He looked over both shoulders, noting that he was the last person in line. “Quite a morning rush you've got here.”

“Yeah,” Harry rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, “Friday mornings are kind of busy. People getting things for the weekend and such. What are you doing here?” Harry's eyes widened, his right palm extending forward. “Not that it's not lovely to have you here.” Louis smiled and pulled his wallet out. “I just thought you weren't really a bakery person.”

He handed Harry a small piece of white paper.

“I'm here to pick up an order, actually.”

"Oh." Harry lifted the ticket to his eyes and blinked, then lowered it. "Tomlinson. That's your last name."

"Yup."

The bell above the bakery door tinkled.

"Nice, that's a...A good last name," Harry said, both smiling wider by the second, their heads nodding in unison. "Well," he let out a breathy laugh and flicked the ticket with his thumb and middle finger, "I'll just grab your cake for you.”

Louis watched Harry's bum bounce in his loose white trousers while he went to a refrigerated case behind the counter. He was so distracted by the pull of his back muscles while he lifted his arms that he didn't realize Harry had appeared in front of him again.

“Here you are.”

Harry pushed the wide, white rectangular box across the counter. Louis paid for it when he placed the order, so no money needed to be exchanged. Harry thumbed the top off in a practiced motion. He pulled the top back.

Louis' jaw dropped, an audible squeak escaping his throat.

Harry chuckled, "What?" He sobered, his lips forming a straight line. "Not what you wanted?"

"I--I--"

When he placed the order, he mentioned to the lovely older woman, who seemed to be named Helena, that his twin sisters were having a birthday party and couldn't decide on a theme. Spiderman and My Little Pony were their choices. Louis volunteered to buy some plastic cake toppers and bring them to the bakery, but Helena assured him that her pastry chef would think of something to incorporate both themes.

Her pastry chef had created a scene in frosting that included Spiderman shooting web at a magenta My Little Pony. The pony had a glowing violet mane and was whipping her rainbow tail towards Spiderman, who had shot glittery white webbing over his half of the cake. Their battle culminated in the center, starbursts arranged around a bubble lettered 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY!' for the twins. Elaborate neon flowers spread in a border around the cake. And if it tasted half as amazing at it smelled, they were in for a treat.

"Everything alright?"

Louis looked away from the cake, Helena smiling at him at Harry's side. He nodded quickly.

"Yes, this is--This is amazing. I've never seen anything like this in my life."

She squeezed Harry to her side, her face just about at his bicep. 

"Thank you, sweet boy. But all the credit must go to Harry." She squeezed him again, her face scrunching in a glowing smile. "He's the real mastermind here."

Louis and Harry looked at each other, Louis' lips quirking up on the left side.

"He's a man of many talents."

Harry's dimples peeked out when he grinned, a small laugh directed downwards. When he looked back at Louis his lips were wet, as if he licked them in the split second he broke eye contact. His cheeks were rosy, swipes of flour lingering on the highest points.

The bell above the door tinkled again. 

“Susan, hello!” Helena waved both of her hands at Harry and Louis and fluttered away from them in a cloud of powdered sugar. Louis and Harry watched her round the counter towards a woman who looked to be about sixty, her grey hair in a matching messy bun. Her voice quietly carried to them. “Espresso? Come, love. Let's sit.”

“I'll bag it up for you,” Harry said, stepping away from the counter. “It'll make it easier to carry.” He pulled a white plastic bag up from a roll on the opposite counter. He glanced over his shoulder. “What made you pick this bakery? There are a few closer to your flat. Does your family live near here?”

Louis studied the case of cookies and cupcakes.

“No,” he laughed softly. “God, no.” He strolled sideways. “We're from Doncaster.” He met Harry's eyes through the brightly lit glass. “That's where I'm heading today for my twin sisters' birthday.”

“Wow, kind of a trip.”

“Will the cake be alright? Shit, I didn't even think of that.”

“Yeah, it'll be fine on the train. I'd just put it in the fridge when you get there, if you aren't going to eat it right away. Just to be safe.”

“Good to know.”

“How'd you find Helena's?”

Louis smiled at the case of elaborately frosted cupcakes. 

“The last time my family was here, I think I must have had a meeting nearby. That's the only reason I can think of for me being in this area. And I ran in right at the end of the day and I got,” he held up two fingers towards the case without touching the glass, “those butterfly cupcakes for my sisters. They were obsessed with them. Still are.”

“Ah.” Harry turned fully towards him, lips stretched in a close mouthed smile. He placed the cake on the counter. “Which colors did they like best?”

“The twins, uhh,” Louis started slowly, brows furrowing while he thought. He laughed a little and scratched his forehead. “Daisy loved the electric blue one with the pointy wings. Said it was like a rock star butterfly.” Harry giggled at that comment, Louis watching his face grow warm. “Phoebe liked the the leopard print one. She's all about patterns, it seems.”

“Let me guess, Daisy is Spiderman and Phoebe is My Little Pony?”

“Yes,” Louis laughed, nodding, He smiled across the counter. “Good brain.” He walked a step to the right and pointed through the glass. “Lottie and Fel liked the lavender flower ones. Such girly girls, they are.”

“They have excellent taste.”

Louis grinned and took his phone out.

“Wait, I think I even have a photo. That's how insane they went. Total sugar high madness.” 

He scrolled for a moment, walking back to the counter. He leaned over, Harry meeting him halfway. Louis could smell his sweat slightly, along with the ever present sweetness of his skin. He touched the screen and tilted it to Harry.

“Here we are.”

“Oh my God, I love it,” Harry said on a giddy laugh. He recognized the sofa from Louis' living room, all five siblings spread out all over each other. Harry's head leaned towards Louis', curls brushing his cheek. “I can't believe you made a purple frosting mustache on yourself!” Tears shone in his eyes. “And you're doing duck lips! You're such a bloody dork!”

“Yeah, yeah, well,” Louis giggled and gently knocked the side of his head into Harry's, “I have to defend my best brother in the universe title somehow.”

Harry kept giggling, leaning his face on his hand and nudging his chin at the screen. 

“I love when people make a mess of my stuff. That's how I know they liked it. Sometimes, food should be messy and fun, not so stuffy.”

“Lovely young ladies, right?”

“They are,” Harry said. “They're lovely.”

He brought their eyes together. Louis couldn't look away from Harry's soft green eyes, the white cap holding his hair off forehead making them appear even lighter than usual. 

Quieter, Harry said, “I think it's great you're close with your sisters.”

Louis leaned closer and placed the phone on top of his cake. He couldn't speak Harry's secret language, but he felt as if Harry was happy just learning that he had sisters. Finding out their cupcake preferences was a bonus on top of a bonus. 

He could feel Harry's heat through the sleeve of his jacket. The smell of yeast and flour turning into bread and pastries was making his head feel light.

“Do you have any? Siblings, I mean.”

The question slipped out before he could stop it.

“One. Gemma,” Harry said immediately with a wide smile, his face brighter than the lit pastry case. Louis found himself smiling just as wide; maybe questions weren't such a bad idea around Harry. “She's amazing. Older than me. Brilliant. Funny as fuck.”

“Sounds like you're really close.”

“We are.”

“Any particular reason?”

Harry's eyebrows rose slightly, his lips opening. Louis flushed and swallowed, looking away. He couldn't keep these pesky questions inside his brain lately.

“Our parents got divorced when we were younger.” His breathless delivery matched Louis' stuttering, rapid-fire questions. “We sort of just...Stuck together. Never fought back then. I don't think we've ever really been mad at each other.”

Louis smiled ruefully, tracing a dull groove in the spotless top of the counter with his thumb.

“I bicker with my sisters all the time, but I know what you mean.” He shrugged and smiled. “Divorce, closeness, and so on.” 

Harry's fingers twitched on the counter, his chest puffing out suddenly. He breathed normally, a smile replacing his wide-eyed shock.

“Well, to be fair, you do have quite a lot of sisters compared to my single one. I'd imagine it gets a bit mad.”

Louis thumbed to the right towards the pastries.

“Throw in a little bit of sugar and you basically have a human tornado full of raspberry lip balm and unfortunate fashion choices.”

Harry grinned at that, his eyes crinkling. 

“So, this weekend is my--”

Louis' phone vibrated on top of his bagged cake box at the same time as the door tinkling. They both looked down, Harry stepping away from the counter. Louis silenced the call, directing his attention back to Harry.

“You were saying?”

“Um, a few mates and I are going out tomorrow night, if you want to join. Or you could just text me if you...” He smiled and scratched behind his ear, eyes dragging from Louis' neck to his mouth. “Feel like exchanging CDs.”

Louis hummed and let his head fall back, a smile stretching over his face and a pull of heat shooting through his entire body.

“I wish. God, you're good in bed,” he groaned softly and shut his eyes, pulling the bottom of his own jumper. Harry laughed and went to hold his hand over his mouth, Louis biting at his fingers. They both giggled, drawing the stares of an older couple enjoying breakfast at a nearby table. “I'm actually staying the whole weekend there.”

“Oh,” Harry said, his smile dimming slightly. Then it was back, as if it had never left. “Well, have fun, then. That's nice to get away the whole weekend.”

“Yeah, should be fun.”

His phone vibrated again, a photo of a beautiful woman with dark hair flashing on the screen.

“Shit, it's my mum,” Louis said, lifting the phone to his ear. He tapped the top of his cake box. “Can I leave this here a second?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said and shooed Louis from the counter with a flick of his hand, “no worries.” Harry pushed the box to the side and smiled at something behind Louis, a young couple stepping up to the counter. “Good morning! What can I get you on this fine Friday?”

Louis walked to the row of glass door refrigerators along the back of the bakery. He listened to his mum chitchat, mentally calculating how many minutes he had until he needed to get to the station. Harry's soft laughter and easy conversation kept derailing him. He never thought listening to someone help a customer decide between cinnamon buns and apple strudel would sound so interesting. 

The bakery door kept twinkling, more and more people filtering in and out of the warm space. He marveled at the delicate peacock feathers made out of teal fondant on a pristine white cake in the center of one case, a matching cake with purple feathers beneath it. There was another cake that looked to be airbrushed like a beach scene, and another two tier dark chocolate cake outlined in flecks of edible gold. 

Row by row he went, from colorful fruit tarts to toasted coconut cream pies to extremely well measured cubes of something that looked chocolatey and light. He reached a case of delicate, elaborate looking pastries and his jaw dropped, his head tilting to study the thin laters of golden dough and precise piping of frosting while his mother rambled on.

“I just took them out,” Harry's voice said, the bakery counter sliding open. Louis turned and watched him take out two croissants with thin almonds shaved on top. He used a thin piece of wax paper to pluck two off the tray and dropped them into a white paper bag. He handed them over with a smile. “Still warm.”

The couple he was serving squealed aloud, the man pulling a piece off and stuffing it in his face while the woman handed Harry some cash.

“Fucking brilliant, you are,” the man said, though it sounded more like mushed up pastry smashing between enthusiastic teeth.

Louis strolled up to the counter. He waited in the small line that had formed with his hands in his pockets. He caught eyes with Harry over the head of a short elderly woman in front of him and winked, Harry smiling and fumbling with a sheet of wax paper.

Once Louis was at the counter, Harry handed over his bag, the ties looped in a bow, both sharing quiet smiles. He could see his face in the mirror behind the counter and flushed. He looked awfully googly eyed.

“You didn't have to queue again.” Harry held onto the bag until he felt it move in Louis' direction, Louis' fingers looped in the handle. “You could have just ran up to get the cake.”

“Don't you mean take the cake?”

“You do sort of take the cake, yes.”

“Ha,” Louis said, gripping the bag tighter. “So,” he pointed at Harry, narrowing his eyes, “you baked those cookies from the first time, right? The one's Liam and Zayn still ask me about?”

Harry nodded.

“Right.”

“And the muffins from heaven?”

“Yes. Heaven?”

“And the life changing scones?”

“Mmhmm. But,” he squinted and laughed, “life changing? Wow. You're making me blush, Lou.”

“And you baked everything in here that your customers are going bonkers for, right?”

“Right. Well,” he tapped the top of the case to the right of the register. “Helena does the eclairs when she can. She's the best at those. But the majority of it, yes. That's what I do.”

“And you don't just work the counter, you're an actual baker.”

“Trained pastry chef and baker, actually. But,” he shrugged one shoulder and smirked, “you know. Whatever you want to call me, you can call me.”

Louis chuckled, “But why didn't you correct me?”

“When?”

“When I implied that you just worked at the counter.”

“Oh, uh,” Harry adjusted his cap, his white tee shifting higher on his arms, “I dunno. It wasn't important. I thought I kind of told you already when I mentioned culinary school,” Louis' eyes flickered side to side, his brain flashing backwards, “but I guess you aren't as bright as I thought.” He smiled up at Louis from under his eye lashes. “And I figured that your face when you found out you were wrong would be oh so sweet. Which,” he giggled, “it is. So it was worth it.”

“Ugh, I'm leaving now,” Louis said, pulling the bag to his chest. “You're obnoxiously attractive when you're smug, and I simply refuse to have a hard on for the whole train ride.”

Harry laughed louder, reaching across the counter.

“Aw, don't be blue.” His fingers brushed the inside of Louis' forearm. Louis' eyes followed his fingers as they traced to the top of his wrist. “It's fun having you here to keep me company. I like it.”

The bell above the door tinkled. The metallic sound was drowned out by the giggles of swooning females.

“It's _him,_ ” one hissed, prompting another squeal of giggles and whispers.

Louis couldn't hold back his smile, Harry's cheeks tinting pink.

“I'll leave you to your admirers.”

“You're cruel.”

“Aw, don't be blue.” He pinched his cheek, Harry smiling and leaning into his touch. “I'm sure they're very sweet.”

Harry gripped his arm just a touch tighter and leaned in, lips brushing his ear.

“Would it break their little hearts if I told them I don't fancy girls, but actually prefer for bossy, barefoot men who hate dessert to sit on my face?”

Louis tightened his hold on the cake bag, one of his feet curling behind his calf. He smiled and murmured, “Dirty baker,” into Harry's hair, Harry's low chuckle sending shockwaves through his body.

Later on the train, when most of the passengers had departed, Louis moved his cake from an overhead compartment to the seat next to him. He felt something sliding around in the bag and unknotted the tie. He hummed, pulling out a smaller white box. He looked around the train car.

He opened it, colors shining up on his face. There were four butterfly cupcakes, one in each of his sister's favorite colors, plus what looked to be a cheese danish. While his brain did not seem to be able to connect Harry's text messages to real life events, he could remember telling Harry he was a bread and cheese person. 

Thankfully, the car was almost empty, so his gasped laugh went unnoticed. He placed the box carefully to the side and took out his phone. He dialed Harry and held his phone up to his ear. 

“Hi!”

“You insane, dirty, sneaky baker!”

Harry's chuckle made Louis grin, his bottom lip bitten between his teeth.

“Took you long enough.”

“Oh, shush. I took a nap. I'm helpless when in a moving vehicle. I nod off like a toddler.”

“Mmm. I would love a nap right now.”

Louis' smile went soft, his brain filled with images of Harry wrapped in blankets, his face sleep heavy, his full lips pouted forward and his hair tousled. Did he sleep straight and unmoving? Or did he curl and kick his legs? Did he wear anything to bed or did he prefer just skin and sheets?

“You still at the bakery?”

“No, just left, actually. I'm almost home.”

“I'm glad your fan club didn't eat you alive.”

“Yes, that would have been unfortunate.”

Louis tucked one foot under his bum, staring out the window.

“When you work such early hours, do you just go home and sleep?”

He could hear a door unlock and then close softly in the background.

“Sometimes. Weekdays, especially. Tonight some friends want me to go out, so I'll push through. Helena gives me two Saturdays and two Sunday off a month, so it depends on if I work the next day. I'm off this whole weekend for the first time in forever.”

“Wow,” Louis laughed. “Quite a party weekend planned.”

“Yeah, well, you know. Birthday and all.”

“Birth...” Louis stood up to grab his overnight bag. He paused, the bag tumbling to the floor. “Oh, shit,” he looked down to the bag crushing his foot, “why didn't you say something? Oh. Shit,” he groaned slowly, “I can see your ID in my head with your little unformed boy face smiling at me. I can't believe I didn't make the connection.”

“No worries, it's not a big deal. I don't even like doing things for my birthday.”

“Aw, but I would have...” Louis shouldered his bag and placed his phone between his ear and the leather strap. “I dunno.”

“Baked me a cake?”

Louis giggled, “Smart arse. You know what I mean. I would have bought you a drink or given you a fancy blow job or something.”

“I don't accept birthday gifts, but I would love to learn more about the fancy blow job option. Does it involve bows and ribbons?”

“And confetti,” Louis said absentmindedly, placing the cupcake box back in the white bag. “Lots of confetti.”

“Kinky. I like it.”

Louis attempted to recreate Harry's perfect bow, smiling both at Harry's voice and the mess of a bow he managed to tie.

“What do you mean you don't accept gifts?”

He heard the sound of running water in the background. Harry's voice echoed loudly while he spoke.

“I don't want anyone spending money on me unless it's a donation to charity or something like that.”

Louis wondered at what point of undressing Harry was, since he could hear a shower running and was most likely on speaker phone. The train lulled and he gripped the top of his seat.

“God bless Saint Harry.”

“Hah! You're very funny.”

“I'll just have to figure out something free that I can give you. Something free and useless and involving confetti, since that apparently turns you on.”

“Perfect!”

Louis walked towards the door, holding his bag of baked good with one hand and his phone with the other.

“Are you taking a shower?”

“I'm about to jump in, yeah.”

“Do you have a porn set shower?”

“Sadly, no.” The unmistakable sound of curtain rings sliding across a metal rod squeaked in the background. “Just a normal one. Gets the job done, though.”

“What's your shower curtain?”

“Cupcakes.”

“Of course it is.” 

The train came to a halt, other people joining Louis at the door. He searched the platform for his mum and saw that all his sisters had come for the pickup along with his mother. He smiled and tightened his grip on his bag.

“I have to shower, but...” There was a pause. He said, “Uh,” and his voice was more present, speaker phone turned off. “One.”

“One what?”

“My answer to your question the other day is one.”

“What?” Louis laughed.

“Your last name is Tomlinson.”

“Yes,” Louis said slowly, nodding to no one. “Very good, Harry.”

“And my number right now is one.”

Louis' cheeky remark melted down his throat and into his stomach, realization causing the melted remark to evaporate into colorful, light-filled fog. He stepped onto the platform and waved at his family, the twins running towards him.

“Just one?”

“Don't want a bigger number, at the moment. I'm quite satisfied with the number of cocks I'm currently sucking.”

Louis barked a laugh, Harry's softer chuckle sending warm shivers through Louis' ear and into his brain. He had a belly full of fog and a brain full of shivers, all because Harry said the number one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from my favorite Tegan and Sara song, [ Relief Next To Me ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yftgnkdan8%20)
> 
> Come say hello on [ LJ](http://dolce-piccante.livejournal.com) and [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com) :


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some talking, texting, fun flatmates, and a blast from the not too distant past. Around 5,800 words, including a teensy bit of Ziam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah! Thank you to everyone who left a comment/kudos/bookmarked. I'm blown away that people are digging this so much, so thank you for making me feel like the luckiest writer in the world! <3
> 
> Huge thank you to [Jess](whitechimes.tumblr.com) for her incredible support and help and patience! She is amazing.
> 
> Italics are used for flashbacks, plus bold/italic for texts and emails.
> 
> Enjoy!

Harry was very drunk. Very, very drunk. He was birthday drunk, which was the result of too many free drinks and not enough food or sleep. He was so drunk that he didn't know how he'd make it up the steps to his flat. Steps could be so pesky. Maybe Louis was right about upping their cardio in order to tackle steps. 

“Mmm,” Harry hummed into something warm and fabric covered.

“C'mon, sweetheart, almost there.”

Then he heard the dulcet Irish tones of his flatmate and smiled with his eyes shut, his face rolling into Niall's neck. Beer and the nip of spicy cologne rushed into his nose. All would be right in the world if Niall was there with him.

“I love you.”

“Love you too, muffin,” Niall said, tightening his arm around Harry's upper back. “Will love you even more once we're in the flat. You're like a walking snuggle tonight, which will be a lot more pleasant horizontal.”

“Mmm, horizontal,” Harry murmured, dozing against Niall's shoulder. 

He started to snore, his body lulling to the left. Then he was pulled upright again, Niall's laugh cackling in his ear. 

“What?” Harry giggled, his body propped against a wall. The wall moved behind his back, Niall's laughter getting louder and Harry's body pulled back to a standing position. Harry looked towards the laughter with closed eyes. “Whasso funny?”

“Nothing, mate. Just glad you had a good night.” Niall wrapped an arm around Harry's waist. “You deserve it.” He jostled him gently. “And tomorrow will be even better! Birthday brunch at Ed's. Then bottle service at Chandelier. It's gonna be sick. Oof. C'mon, move those big old legs of yours. That's it. Good lad, good lad!”

Harry was led into his flat, Niall helping him peel clothes off as he went.

“You're the best,” Harry said from on his back on the bed, his legs hanging over the end from his knees. Niall pulled off one of his boots. “The best everrr. Such a sunshine.” His other boot his the ground. “Sunshiney shiny. Sunshine of my love.”

Niall laughed and eased Harry's legs onto his mattress.

“Sit back, babe. Lie down.”

Harry pressed his heels into the end of his mattress and pushed, his body straightening out and the top of his head mushing into pillows.

“Mmm.”

“Do you need help with your shirt?”

“No, thank you, Niallllll.”

Niall stood next to his bed with his hand over his smiling mouth, watching the scene unfold. Harry tried to pull his button up off from the bottom of his stomach. He managed to get half the shirt pulled up around his ribs before the material would not stretch anymore. His socked feet moved without reason on the bed, puppy whimpers released into his shirt. Niall scrunched his fingers into his stomach.

“Whahahahat?” Harry laughed loudly, arching away. “What're you _doing!?_ ”

“Here, mate.”

Niall unbuttoned his shirt from the top and helped him take it off. He helped him with his jeans, as well; he should have gotten a crowbar before attempting to breach such tightness. Niall left Harry in just black boxer briefs and black socks, though Harry was attempting to drag his socks off by stepping on his own feet. He got the right one off, the left one hanging half off his long foot.

“Drink this,” Niall said upon returning, shoving a glass of water under Harry's lips. “Babe, open up.”

Harry blinked up at him, confused and sleepy. 

“What is it?”

Niall's lips twitched into a smile.

“Water.”

Harry's nose wrinkled, his lips tightly shut. 

“Harry,” Niall laughed. “Drink up.”

He shook his head, then licked the cool rim of the glass. He looked at the liquid as if it were gold, his tongue dipping into the glass. Niall laughed and lifted Harry's hand, positioning it on the glass.

“Drink that, then we'll tuck you in, birthday boy.”

“Mmm,” Harry hummed, his throat gulping.

Eventually, Harry was tucked into his bed, all the lights out and a small rubbish bin next to the bed. He didn't have a habit of getting sick after drinking, but Niall was a very thorough helper. 

“Here's a bottle of water, baby boy,” Niall's voice floated to him. Harry hummed, his eyes shut and his head going woozy. “I took your phone out of your jeans and it's next to your bed, okay?”

“Kay.”

“Call me if you need anything.”

Harry cracked his eyes open and smiled, his face the only thing visible amongst his blankets.

“Thank-you-so mmmuch.”

Niall's face crinkled with a smile. He ruffled Harry's hair.

“Anytime. Happy birthday.”

Harry could hear Niall leave his bedroom, sleep pulling at his body. He was just about to tip off into a fuzzy, cozy darkness when his phone vibrated on his bedside table. It was so late, or early, that he was sure he could leave the message until tomorrow, but his arm reached out of his duvet cocoon to pick up the phone.

He pouted his lips and struggled to get his thumb to behave, but he managed to unlock the screen. He noticed that he had a few texts and missed calls, sleep pulling at him again. He clicked on his texts and noticed that Louis had sent his most recent message, the text that was keeping him awake. He smiled and opened the message.

“Hi there,” he said aloud. 

When the phone did not reply to him, he realized he needed to try and read what Louis sent.

_you'd better be reading this on saturday after having a wild friday night, birthday boy sugar plum...thx for the cake, you're amazing and brilliant and it was the best dessert i've ever eaten. the girls loved it and look, we made a mess! have an amazing wknd :)_

He hummed and squinted, unable to get his eyes focused on the bright screen.He moved the phone further away and then closer to his face. He found a happy medium and the attached photo started to focus. He noticed Louis was there and he seemed to be laughing, something colorful smeared all over his face and a shining silver tiara on his head. Four pretty female faces covered in bits of colors were smushed on Louis' body. 

Harry started to giggle, his fingers touching Louis' frosting covered face on the screen.

“Ohhh,” he said to himself, giggling louder. He snorted once and then sighed, his nose tapping Louis' face on the screen. “You're sssso-so bloody cute.”

. . .

Louis turned off the television in his childhood bedroom and rolled onto his stomach, plopping the remote on his bedside table. He pulled his tee off from between his shoulder blades and dropped it on the floor. He wiggled for a few seconds to get comfortable on his side, worn grey pajama bottoms dragging down lower on his hips.

The room had most recently been used as a guest room and office, but his dark wood furniture was all the same. He pushed his face into his pillow. His mum had put fresh sheets on his bed that morning and they smelled so crisp and clean. He liked using different washing powder than his mum; his home smelled like home and his flat smelled like his flat.

He shut his eyes and pulled the duvet up to his neck. He promised the girls that he'd take them out to lunch and the movies the next day. His idea of staying up late to watch a marathon of Ace of Cakes was not his brightest.

He had silenced his phone before settling into bed, but the screen illuminated in his dark bedroom. Louis snuffled through his nose and reached out. It was probably a Facebook notification about a photo he liked in 2011 that someone else decided to comment on.

But, no. It was not Facebook. It was angel bed Harry lighting up his room. At almost four in the morning, it was a much sweeter sight when compared to a blue Facebook notification screen. 

Louis listened for any sign of life in the hallway. He accepted the call and held it to his face.

“What are you doing awake?” he whispered, smiling and bending his knees closer to his chest. “I can't talk you off. My mum's next door.” He tried to ignore the flare of heat that flickered at the base of his spine. “God, that feels kind of naughty to actually have to say that, doesn't it?”

“Lou.”

Harry's voice sounded so rough but still pleasant, the gruff rasp in his tone like smooth pond stones instead of broken glass.

“Yeah?”

“Wanna...shnug...wif you.”

Louis smiled so wide his eyes shut, his ankles crossing. He bit his bottom lip to silence his laughter, his cheeks round, sleep the furthest thing from his mind. He could tell Harry was the snuggly type, but they hadn't crossed that bridge yet.

Harry mumbled something into the phone, his lips too close to the speaker for words to come through. Louis ran his fingers through his hair. He pulled on the back and left his hand behind his head, fingers tugging his hair.

“You're so drunk, aren't you?”

“Mmmm.”

“Good, you should be.”

“Lou?”

“Yes?”

Louis waited for his reply. He stared at the moonlight seeping through his pale blue curtains. He rolled onto his back, flexing his bicep and scratching the back of his head. His eyes moved to the side, his brows rising.

“Harry?”

. . .

Harry woke up at around eleven the next morning. It was a luxury he was not usually afforded, but seeing as he didn't have to wake up early for work the next day, he could mess with his sleep schedule a bit. He reached for the water bottle on his bedside table and sucked down a gulp.

“Thank you, Niall,” he murmured, sucking down another gulp.

He replaced the bottle on the table and rolled onto his stomach. He flipped a pillow, cuddling his face into the cool cloud of fluff. He had just dozed off again when there was a soft knock at his door. He hummed and said, “Yeah?” as loud as his tender throat would allow.

“Good morning, birthday boy,” Niall said, poking his cheek where a dimple would normally be. The bed sagged under him. “Twenty-four years ago, your mum pushed you out of her vagina, knowing that one day you would meet the greatest man who ever lived. His name? Niall Horan.”

Harry smiled, his face shying away from Niall's fingers.

“Morning. Thanks. And thanks for the lovely visual.”

Niall sat on his foot, his bum comfortable in the inward curve of Harry's curled body. He petted Harry's hair, prompting a quiet, high sigh.

“Wanna get up, pretty one?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, yawning. He rolled onto his back and stretched his arms over his head. “Yeah, I'll get up in a minute.”

“Ed said to come over at around noon. Sound good?”

Harry swallowed and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth.

“Mmhmm.” His arms relaxed over his head, his eyes lulling shut. “Just need to shower.” His speech slowed, his chest rising calmly. “Do my teeth.”

“Yeah, you really do.”

Harry laughed, “Shut up,” and jutted his hips sideways, Niall bouncing off his bed. 

He got out of bed and showered. When he returned to his room he felt much more alive, his mouth minty and cool. He was toweling his hair when he saw his phone peeking out from underneath his pillow. He shut his door and dropped the towel around his waist into his laundry basket. 

He bent over near his bed and reached for his charger, plugging the iPhone in. He noticed a few texts and voicemails from his mum and sister. Checking the time, he sat on his unmade bed and dialed his mum.

Twenty minutes later, he'd managed to chat with his mum, stepfather, and sister, while also making his bed. He hadn't tackled the whole putting on clothes thing yet, his body sprawled naked on his back. He replied to a few birthday texts from friends and family. He smiled at each thoughtful message, his body warm even with his lack of clothing. 

He scrolled down in his texts and stared at the last unread message.

_you snore xx_

He blinked and pulled his thumb to the left. Louis had sent that text at four-thirty two in the morning. He navigated to his missed calls, then his voicemail. His stomach dropped. He clicked on his dialed calls.

“Oh God,” he breathed, eyes widening. Forty-two minutes of conversation he had no recollection of. “Oh my God." He held his palm on his cheek, his head shaking side to side. "Shit.”

He went back to his texts and typed as fast as his thumbs would allow.

**i'm so sorry if i woke you up or said anything weird or if your phone rang and woke your family, i was so drunk, sorry! yikessss! sorry!**

He threw in a few open mouthed smileys for good luck. His shower was shot to hell, because his body now felt prickly from fresh sweat. He got up and tossed his phone on the bed, running his hands over his face. He grabbed the nearest clean clothes possible and pulled them on. His phone blooped on his bed.

_no worries! it was your bday...you're supposed to be drunk and make poor decisions_

Harry exhaled in relief, sitting on his bed. He smiled, letting out another big breath.

 _though i hope you know i'm going to torture you forever with the tidbits of info you dropped last night...like drag it the fuck out_

Harry felt his cheeks blushing, but he couldn't stop laughing, his hands cradling the phone. For some reason, the thought of Louis torturing him didn't seem terribly bad.

. . .

“Yeah, I'm walking into my place now.” Louis unlocked the door to his building, pushing it open with his overnight bag. His mother's voice chattered in his ear, the tempo speeding up as if she could sense the conversation was ending but she did not want to let go. Louis laughed softly, saying, “I know, I had fun, too. I'll talk to you soon, alright?” and starting up the steps. “I have to figure out dinner and get ready for the week. Yes, yes, I know, but then I'd have gotten back way too late. I love you, too.” He paused a few steps from his flat. “Yeah, of course. Bye.”

He put his phone his pocket and unlocked his front door. He stepped inside and saw mail scattered on the floor. He got down on his knees and started to gather it.

A sucking sound smacked in the otherwise silent flat. Louis stood up with the mail in hand, walking to the table with light steps. He peered into the living room, noting that two bodies were resting together on the couch under one red blanket.

“Wow,” he whispered to himself, biting the inside of his lip not to laugh. He flicked through a few random advertisements, tossing them on the table. More sucking sounds carried to him while he pondered switching credit cards for a lower interest rate. He glanced up and whispered even softer, “You're really going at it over there.”

The slurps and sucks halted, a pained groan muffled by a hand. Liam's head popped up from the blanket covered lumps on the sofa.

“Oh, hey,” he said, his voice breathier than usual. “Welcome back!” His legs fell out of the blanket, his socked feet bumping into the coffee table. “How was your-your trip?”

Louis smirked and tossed a few envelopes on the kitchen table, his eyes never straying from the mail.

“It was really good.”

Zayn's voice asked, “Family good?” from under the blanket. 

“Yeah, thanks. All good. They send their regards and I'm supposed to tell you both that they're going to kick your arses in MarioKart next time they're here. Daisy's been practicing.”

“Cool. Um,” Liam shifted to a seated position, “how long were--” He laughed high in his throat and slapped something on the sofa. “Z, _stop_ \--” He cleared his throat, his features schooled. “How long were you standing there?”

Louis' eyes slid over the mail to his friends.

“About three and a half moans ago.”

“Fuck you,” Zayn laughed, relaxing on his back. He pulled Liam back with a fist in the center of his shirt. “C'mon, relax, babe.” He looked over Liam's head to grin at Louis. “We were just napping. Not moaning.”

“We _were_ kind of moaning,” Liam said softly.

Louis giggled, “Relax. Who cares? Do whatever. I'll be out in a minute.” He started towards his hallway. “Just wanted to drop my stuff before I pick up food somewhere.”

“Oh, well, we were just saying that we didn't feel like cooking tonight,” Zayn said, pulling his body from the depths of the red blanket. “Do you wanna just order in?”

Louis hummed, tapping his knuckles against the wall next to their New Years photo.

“What were you thinking?”

“Liam said Chinese,” Zayn wrinkled his face and shook his head, Liam sighing at his side, “but I was thinking that fancy sandwich place.”

“With the honey mustard chicken salad wrap?” Louis asked quickly, practically gasping. “And the amazing spicy chips with that Greek dipping sauce stuff?”

“Yes,” Zayn said on a laugh, holding his arms out. He stood up. “Finally! I thought I had hallucinated that place.”

Liam pushed his shirt down his stomach, one finger still looped in the back of Zayn's black sweats.

“Wait, is that the place with the perfect iced coffee?”

“Yes!” Louis and Zayn said at the same time.

“Why didn't you say so?” Liam asked, pulling Zayn back onto his lap. He did something that made Zayn laugh, his legs spasming in the air. Liam smiled at Louis and ruffled Zayn's hair, prompting another frustrated sound from the captured man. “Yeah, let's do that place.”

Louis chuckled and stopped tapping his knuckles.

“Cool. Lemme just drop my stuff and then we can order.”

“Do you wanna have anyone come over?”

Louis' laughter died down to a confused giggle. He adjusted his bag on his shoulder, his brows furrowing.

“What?”

Liam's mouth remained open, Zayn eyeing him curiously.

“I just meant...If you wanted to invite someone else to dinner. Here. From...” He looked to Zayn for help, Zayn smirking against his shoulder. “Sandwiches?”

“Zayn, you're getting too good at fucking his brains out,” Louis said while walking into his bedroom. “He's lost what was left of them.”

Zayn cackled in the other room, Liam shushing him with more mushing noises that sounded a lot like kissing.

Louis went into his bedroom and dropped his bag at the foot of his bed. He fell forward onto the bed, breathing in deeply. He toed his Vans off and rolled his ankles, rubbing his feet into his duvet. He'd actually worn socks that day. Black with tiny khaki squares.

His phone dug into his hip when he stretched his lower back. He pulled it out and placed it on the pillow in front of him. The black screen stared at him, his reflection visible in the face of the phone. He blinked at himself and pushed his lips slightly forward, making a kiss face.

He looked down and guffawed softly, his lips sliding back into a normal position.

He touched the screen and unlocked it with four quick numbers. He checked his texts and scrolled down in his conversations, the pad of his finger opening up his chat with Harry. He swallowed and rolled onto his back, the phone grasped in his hand.

He tapped his thumbs against the sides of his phone, stepping on his own feet and pulling his socks off.

“Oh, shit,” he blurted out, his thumb accidentally sending Harry the text:

_lakalalalka_

Louis' face shook involuntarily side to side.

“Fuck.”

He laughed and dropped his phone as if it was covered in spiders, his fingers curling into his hands.

“Lou, you ready to order?”

He looked out his open bedroom door towards Liam's voice.

“Yeah,” he said loudly, pushing himself off the bed. “Coming.”

His phone vibrated on the mattress. He stood on the side of the bed and eyed it as it moved over his duvet. He reached for it, but stopped his hand inches away, his bottom lip between his teeth. He picked up the phone and let his body fall sideways on the bed.

**ooh are you singing to me? lovely :)**

He crossed his ankles and typed his reply.

_sry, that was a typo message_

**what did you mean to write?**

_just hi and stuff_

**lakalalalhi!**

Louis giggled and rubbed his bare feet together. He mumbled, “Alright, alright,” and started to type.

_did you eat yet?_

**yeah, at dinner with fam now**

_oh ok...have fun!_

He exhaled and relaxed on his side. And there it was. Harry was not available for fancy sandwiches or spicy chips. He pursed his lips forward again, then let his lips fall back. The bed vibrated.

**i'd like to see you soon though...preferably when neither of us are within shouting distance of our parents**

_what part of me?_

**reminder: my mum is RIGHT NEXT TO ME...cheeky perv**

Louis laughed aloud and said, “Why am I being such a lunatic?”

“Because you are one,” Zayn said, hugging him from behind.

Louis smiled and leaned back into him, dropping his phone face down on the bed. He let his eyes fall shut, Zayn's stubble brushing the curve of his neck.

“What are you doing?”

“Saying hello, since you're taking your sweet time ordering. Some of us are starving. Fuck, you're good at being the little spoon.”

They broke up their snuggle and walked back into the living room, Zayn still hugging Louis from behind with his arms around his waist. Liam was in the center of the sofa eying the delivery menu on his laptop very seriously. Louis sat down next to him, Zayn on Liam's other side. Liam tilted the laptop screen towards him.

“Did you decide?”

“I'll just do the honey mustard wrap and spicy chips thing with extra sauce,” Louis said, Liam navigating the cursor to add his order to their cart. “I've got cash in my bag.” He cooed and pointed at the screen. “Good choice with that salad. The dried cranberries are everything you need in life.”

Liam smiled and sent their order in. He cuddled down on the sofa, pulling the blanket over the three of them. Zayn put his laptop on the coffee table while Louis propped his feet there, the blanket resting at about his ankles. He grabbed the remote and flicked on the television, all three settling in for the painful wait until delivery arrived.

“So, what'd you two do this weekend?” Louis asked, plopping the remote on Liam's stomach.

“Oh, you know,” Zayn said, shrugging his right shoulder. He and Liam smiled at each other. “This and that. Got groceries and cooked a couple of times. Cleaned my flat. Went to Chandelier for a friend's birthday thing. Just stopped by for drinks.”

 

_“Hey, you made it!”_

_Liam and Zayn were both pulled into a warm hug, their arms wrapping around Harry's back. Liam eyed Zayn's relaxed smile and wink, his face cuddling into Harry's neck._

_“Thanks for the text,” Zayn said, giggling at the pinch he received from Liam's direction. “Was so nice of you to invite us.”_

_“Of course!”_

_“Happy birthday, mate,” Liam said into his shoulder. He pulled back and squinted at him. “Wow, you do smell good.”_

_Harry grinned, patting his cheek._

_“Thank you.”_

_Zayn flicked his finger at Harry's chest._

_“Are you wearing a sheer black shirt?”_

_Harry looked down at his body and held his arms out, gasping, “I think I am.” They all laughed, Liam and Zayn taking their coats off to hand them to a hostess. “I should stop letting my sister buy clothes for me.”_

_When they got Harry's short text about his birthday drinks at Chandelier, they had wondered if it would be weird to hang out with Louis' friend with benefits without him. Then they decided to stop by for one drink while they made the rounds of other parties that night. It was only polite, and Harry seemed to be the polite type._

_“Can I get you two drinks?” Harry asked, leading them over to a private booth. There was an enormous crystal chandelier hanging above the booth, people crowded around the table. You could see the bar behind them in the distance, the lit front of the bar changing colors every so often.“We've got a bit of everything. Beer, liquor, wine, champagne. Or, if you want something specific, just go to the bar and say you're on Niall's tab. I highly recommend,” he lifted the glass in his hand, mellow green liquid sloshing amongst ice cubes, “their margaritas, which seems silly as it's freezing out, but,” he rubbed his stomach, “it's warm in here.”_

_“Wow, quite a spread,” Liam said, taking in the buckets filled with ice and a variety of top shelf alcohol. “This is so generous of you.”_

_“My flatmate Niall is the mastermind,” Harry said, handing them both glasses. “He used to bartend here and is super close with the owners, so tonight is very, very, very discounted. Like,” his eyes sparkled mischievously, “the most discounted. You know? So, please, help yourselves to whatever you'd like.”_

_Zayn picked up a bottle of scotch and laughed, “Excellent,” dumping a healthy portion in his glass._

 

“Ooh, Chandelier,” Louis said, wiggling his shoulders under the blanket. “I love it there. It's so pretty and chill. The bartenders make sick margaritas.”

“Yeah, you would have loved it,” Liam said, he and Zayn exchanging another secret smile. “Bottle service and everything.”

Louis brought his feet under the blanket and hummed, leaning his head on Liam's shoulder.

“Nice. Sounds like it was fun.”

. . .

The week took off like a shot. Louis' weekend away was relaxing, but having such a busy schedule at work almost negated the relaxing effects of his trip home. Adding to the sting of the workweek was the fact that his schedule and Harry's schedule did not seem to line up.

The bakery was providing all the desserts for some big gala fundraiser at a nearby museum that Friday and Harry had been tied up doing whatever pastry chefs did to prepare food for five hundred people. Sketching sky high towers of cookies or rolling miles of fondant or challenging himself to bake a wedding cake in sixty minutes. Louis had been watching a lot of competitive cooking programs lately. 

Midweek flew by and then it was Thursday, Louis and Zayn settling in for yet another Skype conference with two of their other offices. They'd just started working together on a long campaign for Rolex and the Rolex people proved to be chattier than usual for such a well established company. It wasn't a bad thing, as the Rolex people were also very professional and were known to gift associates with a Rolex, the same way other companies would send a thank you note. 

Louis pulled up the documents needed for this particular meeting on his iPad, scrolling through the meeting points. Neither he nor Zayn needed to actually say anything, which was a relief. They'd been talking enough that week.

“Hey, babe.”

Zayn sat in his seat next to Louis, his own iPad in hand. 

“Hey.” Louis flipped the page, then minimized to check a few sports scores. “Do you remember if Liam said we need milk?”

“Nope. I'll text him. I need to get some groceries anyway.”

“Fuck yes, you do. I know that _I_ didn't finish my ice cream at three in the morning.”

Zayn laughed and pulled a beanie on, rubbing his hands over his cheeks.

“I had a craving. Don't hate me forever.”

Louis smiled wide at the screen, Zayn bumping their rolling chairs together. He looked at Zayn and fluttered his eyelashes.

“As if I ever could.”

Simon and the higher-ups floated into the room, their assistants hurrying behind them with hands full of coffee, mobile phones, and clouds of palpable stress.

“Alright, everyone, let's get started,” Simon said, sitting at the head of the table. His assistant went to the front of the room and set up their Skype session, a split screen appearing on the wall. “So, this shouldn't take terribly long. I don't want to run past five. We just need to check in with Miami and Chicago, see where everyone is at, then we'll be done.”

The other employees murmured and shifted around, getting comfortable. Louis stared at the split screen on the wall. The right side was already filled out with very tan, happy associates in Miami, some of which looked to be wearing their bathing suits. The left side was still blue, waiting for a connection to form with Chicago.

“Chicago?” he whispered, flicking through the agenda on his iPad. 

Chicago? Their Chicago office? Where did it say anything about-- 

“Oh.” 

He stopped flicking, noting that Chicago was listed right at the top of the document. He placed his iPad on the desk and rubbed his hands over his cheeks. He hadn't shaved for almost a week, his palms picking up stubble. He ruffled his own hair and sat up straighter in his seat, adjusting his navy blue cardigan and pulling his baggy watercolor painted tank lower on his chest. 

“Primping for Chicago?”

“Shut up,” Louis whispered back at Zayn, who prodded his ribs in response.

The screen on the left turned on, a similar conference room full of people in a lot more clothes than Miami staring back at them. Louis' eyes did a quick scan of their group. They were lacking a head of shaggy blond hair.

“You'll have to excuse us for being a little short staffed,” a woman he remembered was named Jennifer said. She was the director of their Chicago office. She had on a thick red scarf, a metal travel mug clutched in her hands. “A nasty stomach bug is making the rounds, along with everyone sharing a cold.”

“Yikes,” Simon said, wincing. “Get well soon.” He touched the screen of his iPad, the screen now shared among all three offices. “Now, let's talk quickly about where this idea is headed.” He slid his fingers, two mock ups for Adidas running shoes appearing. “I think it just needs a little bit more clarity or focus, because it's not testing as well as we thought it would.”

Louis zoned out after a few minutes of rambling between offices. He opened his email on his iPad, tilting the screen against the table to keep it from nearby eyes. He opened a new message and typed Thor into the To: field, but nothing popped up. His brain decided to join the party and he typed the letter E, the email address evangilbert@gmail.com popping up. 

_Hey, how's everything going in Chicago? Are you tired of people calling it The Windy City yet? Have you had enough deep dish pizza? So many questions, so little time. Heard your office is under the weather. Hope you're well!_

_-L_

He sent the email and closed the app, reopening the agenda. A reply appeared within minutes, Louis' foot jiggling against the floor. He opened it.

_LOUIS! Hello, hello, old friend! To answer your questions:_

_1\. Better_  
2\. Not yet  
3\. NEVER 

_Yes, I am home sick right now and missing what is clearly a very interesting conference call. We should catch up soon. Let's set up a Skype time. I miss working with you so much, you have no idea. It's just not the same here._

_Take care!_

_-E_

Louis blinked at the reply, the left side of his upper lip snarled. It had Thor's usual enthusiasm and excessive use of exclamation points. That was nothing new. It wasn't a terrible email. Louis couldn't deny that it was his first attempt reaching out to Thor, who wasn't entirely to blame for their lack of communication. But something was strange. 

Why did Thor say that he missed working with Louis, but not Louis himself? Was Thor not the person who spilled his guts at the party, throwing Louis into a tailspin of questions about the status of his previously very pleasurable love life and sexual proficiency? _Take care_ was the best Thor could do as a closing to their first email interaction since he'd left?

Louis refocused on the mock ups, lifting his foot to slide it under his thigh. A warm hand settled behind his neck.

“That was kind of a shitty email,” Zayn whispered from next to him.

Louis smiled with his lips closed and shrugged. He whispering back, “Doesn't matter,” while keeping his face turned away towards the screen.

Zayn squeezed his neck again, thumb smoothing the longer bits of hair along his nape.

The conference call wrapped up at one minute to five, as promised. Louis went to his office to pack his things. He was shrugging his coat on when Zayn appeared in the doorway.

“Hey, I'm going to meet Liam for drinks in Primrose Hill. Wanna join?”

“Ooh, la, la,” Louis laughed, pulling a black beanie on. “What's the occasion?”

“He had a client near there who tipped him triple his normal house call rate, so I think he's feeling a little drunk with how much cash he has on him. If you come with, we could probably weasel at least two free drinks out of him at some posh place, maybe more if he gets drunker than us.”

“You're the only person I know who hustles his own boyfriend.”

Zayn laughed with his head thrown back. His eyes twinkled when he looked back at Louis.

“I more than make up for it with sexual favors.”

Louis hit the lights, giggling, “I'm sure you do.”

“So?”

“I think I'll just head home,” Louis said, adjusting his bag strap over his shoulder. “I'm kind of tired and I need to get in early tomorrow to finish up before the weekend.”

“Boo,” Zayn said, buzzing his lips. “You suck.”

“But not as much as you'll have to when you work off your poncy drinks.”

“Hah!”

They walked out of Simone together and parted ways. Louis took his phone out of his pocket and searched for his ear buds in the front of his work bag. He plugged in and put the buds in his ears, hitting the home key once. 

Oh. An unread text from Harry. It must have come in while his phone was silenced in the meeting.

He unlocked the screen and went to his music first, turning on a playlist heavy on the Franz Ferdinand and Muse. He opened Harry's text while walking down the stairs to the tube, his steps slowing and people rushing around him.

**have a couple of hours free tonight before i have to go to sleep...you free? i might miss you or something (and not just your arse...the other bits of you, too)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from my favorite Tegan and Sara song, [ Relief Next To Me ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yftgnkdan8%20)
> 
> Come say hello on [ LJ](http://dolce-piccante.livejournal.com) and [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A duo of sorts. More talking and learning. Fluff. And food!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU for all the comments and kudos!! I can't even begin with how this has been one of the most difficult weeks of my life for a variety of reasons, but y'all are so incredibly kind to support this fic. So seriously, thanks so much! I'm shocked I managed to write at all this week, but somehow over 9k words were ready to post, so here we are. More soon :)
> 
> Thank you as always to [Jess](whitechimes.tumblr.com) for her incredible patience, help, and support!

Louis opened the door to his flat and squeaked. Harry stood in the doorway, leaning one arm high on the frame and smiling, exhaustion softening his gaze. 

“What a lovely surprise!” He walked back two steps, Harry taking two steps inside. In one graceful motion, Harry lifted his leg backwards and gently kicked the door shut. “You've emerged from the land of butter and sugar.”

Harry said nothing. He wrapped his arms around him, one arm draped over his shoulder and the other sliding up from his hip to his back, his hands linked. Their bodies made a soft crunching sound when they squeezed together, a deeper growled moan vibrated into Louis' body from Harry's lips on his neck. 

Louis felt like he was being slowly mauled by a hybrid bear-lion, but he couldn't stop kissing under the hybrid bear-lion's freshly shaved chin. Harry made another satisfied sound, his hands sliding down Louis' lower back. He gripped his arse and groaned loudly, but his breathing went soft, his throat humming for each exhale.

“You're so tired, aren't you?” Louis asked, giggling and holding Harry's dead weight upright. “You're falling asleep standing up. On me.” He pulled Harry's head by his hair, orienting his face towards him. “You didn't have to push yourself. You could have just gone to sleep.”

Harry continued to smile sleepily. He hitched Louis up, large hands cupping his arse. Louis' eyebrows rose along with his body. His legs curled around Harry as if they already knew what to do, Harry's hips the perfect resting spot for his thighs. Harry kissed the right side of his neck, then the left, then the soft dip of his throat.

“Not too tired for you,” he said, his voice even deeper than usual. “Never too tired for you.”

“You know,” Louis looked down at the floor moving under Harry's boots, “I usually don't care for people picking me up off the ground.”

Harry quirked an eyebrow, tightening his hold around his waist.

“Yeah? Should I drop you?”

He let his arms go slack, Louis clutching at his shoulders and gasping, his legs tight enough around Harry's waist to leave bruises.

“Dick,” he laughed, gently slapping his shoulder. His other hand was still clutched in his jacket. He looked over his shoulder at his flat. “Where are you taking me?”

Harry kissed the front of his throat.

“Sofa. Gonna take care of,” one of his hands slid from Louis' arse to the front of his black skinnies, “this.”

He squeezed and Louis shuddered into him, his face pressed against his ear for a shaky breath.

“You're hard already?” Harry teased softly, rubbing him firmer. Louis sucked his earlobe into his mouth, his tongue slowly swirling around the bite of skin. Harry's body vibrated with a moan. “Were you just sitting here playing with yourself?”

“I've been so horny all week. I've got no idea what's wrong with me. Maybe it was a full moon or something.”

Harry laughed and bent over near the sofa, easing Louis' body onto the cushions. He stood up straight for just a second to shrug his coat off. His body flattened on top of him, Louis' arms and legs wrapping around him.

“There's nothing wrong with you,” Harry breathed, brushing his lips under Louis' ear. He kissed down the soft skin of his neck, sniffing ever few kisses, his right hand massaging Louis through his jeans. “You being horny is a blessing, you fool. Fuck, you smell good tonight.”

Louis tilted his head back, his stomach shaking with a laugh. Harry smiled up at him from his belt, his hands making quick work of pulling his skinnies down. His eyes scanned Louis' face, his smile going lopsided.

“I like the gruff look,” he said, eyes dropping to his chin. He licked his palm. “A lot.”

Louis' eyes fogged confusedly while he watched Harry's tongue curve over his palm a second time. He touched his cheek, fingers running over his stubble.

“Oh,” he said, his voice going higher at the end. Harry started to jack him quick and hard, his eyes never leaving his face. “Right. My,” he swallowed, rubbing his hand over his chin, “gruff look. I just sort of forgot to shave.”

Harry shifted higher and kissed his stomach, kissing towards his chest. He bit his nipple through the fabric of his shirt, lathing his tongue over the spot, his hand never missing a beat below.

“You're really good with your hands,” Louis blurted out. He laughed and put his hands over his face. “Fuck, that's the cheesiest thing to say while receiving a hand job.” His arms opened to rest behind his head. “I apologize.”

Harry chuckled and kissed his neck, his other hand unbuttoning the bottom of his cardigan.

“I'm ambidextrous.”

Louis gasped and smiled at the top of Harry's head.

“Seriously?”

“Yup.” Harry folded his cardigan open. He fingered the bottom the shirt underneath, humming and nudging his stomach with his nose. “Is this a tank?”

Louis swallowed and tilted his head to the left, Harry sucking a biting kiss on his pulse point.

“Yeah,” he said, voice cracking. He pulled his cardigan off. Both sleeves managed to get caught on his wrists while the bottom was wedged under his arse. He huffed and wiggled his bum, then threw it on the coffee table. Even with less layers, his skin started to tingle with sweat. “W-Why?”

Harry lifted his face and smiled down at him, his fingers sliding along Louis' side. He touched the exposed skin of his ribs at the bottom of his arm hole. He pulled the material down, kissing the warm skin softly.

“I kind of think this part of your body is hot.”

“My ribs?”

He slid his fingers sideways, the pads stroking over Louis' nipple.

“Yeah. All up your sides, actually.”

“Are you a cannibal?”

Harry blew air through his lips and sat up straight.

“Shit,” he widened his eyes, hand still stroking him, “I _knew_ I forgot to tell you something.”

“Take your clothes off,” Louis said, rubbing his feet against Harry's dark jeans. “Wanna touch you.”

“Nah, just you for now.”

Louis squinted at him, his chest starting to heave with uneven breaths, orgasm licking between his vertebrae. 

“But you're—” He looked down between them, watching his slick cock appear out of Harry's fist. “You're—Hard, too.”

“Wanna make you come.”

“Why?”

“'Cause when I said I missed you, I missed your come face, too.”

Louis moaned, “How romantic,” and bucked into his fist, Harry's body enveloping him, his lips attached to his neck. “You're a cannibal and a va-- _Ah!_ ” He gasped and arched his neck, a sharp nip next to his Adam's apple stinging before a hot tongue wetly licked over the spot. “And a vampire, too.”

“This is gonna leave a mark tomorrow.”

“Fucking do it,” he breathed, Harry's teeth sinking in before he even finished the sentence. Louis sighed high in his throat, his hips jerking up rapidly to meet his strokes. “Fuck, H-Harry.”

Harry pressed his thumb against Louis' nipple and scratched down his ribs. He growled while sucking his neck, tightening his fist on an upstroke, Louis' body spasming underneath him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Louis babbled, his voice tight and thin. Harry pushed his tank up his belly, Louis shooting against his fist and dripping on his lower stomach. He panted, “Fucking fuck that-that w-was fast,” his body relaxing into the couch. He swallowed and curled his toes, Harry's fingers tracing over his stomach, come smearing on the hair around his navel. “My bum is in the cushion crack, but I can't find the energy to care.”

Harry smiled and pulled his hand up. 

“You were particularly fuck-heavy tonight.”

Louis made a soft, affirmative sound, his feet rubbing their way between the coffee colored cushion and the arm of the sofa. His middle was still bare, his pants hiked down and his cock throbbing against his thigh.

“I was keyed up. _Fucking_ keyed up.” He opened his eyes and caught Harry sucking on his fingers. Louis shut his eyes and moaned, “Filthy,” his head lolling on the sofa.

“What was that?”

“You're like a walking, talking sex fantasy.” He cracked his eyes and saw Harry pulling his black tee off over his head. “A sex fantasy that can bake.”

Harry ruffled his hair, pushing his bangs off his forehead. His bicep fluttered, his stomach muscles clenching ever so slightly.

“You're gonna be hard again in no time, aren't you?”

“Yeah,” Louis said, his breathing calming. He reached out, fingers dragging down the front of Harry's torso. He lingered on the top of his abs, fingertips tracing along the divots of his hips. He smiled at the jump of Harry's skin, thumb lightly circling his hip bone. “I feel like a teenager.”

Harry shimmied his jeans down and sat back on his feet, his body between Louis' spread legs. 

“I do, too. With you.”

Louis smiled and reached both of his hands out.

“C'mere. I'll get you going and then we can suck each other off. Maybe we could just rub against each other. That's teenage, right?”

Harry scooted higher. He pushed his foreskin down, his other hand gripping his cock.

“I'm already kind of, um,” he grinned and licked his bottom lip, “going.”

“You and me both," Louis hummed, lightly dragging his fingers up his left inner thigh. He put his palm almost over Harry's mouth. "Lick, please.”

They made a mutual decision to rut against each other, Harry whimpering as he came with his hands pinned over his head, Louis giving him a bite to his neck that was sure to stand out from his all white chef's uniform. 

“Will you be the talk of the gala?”

Harry hummed, “Hm, what?” with his head in his tee. His head popped out, a smile already on his face. His hair bounced on its own for a few seconds, Harry shaking it out of his eyes. Louis smiled at him from on his back, his clothing fastened but askew. “What'd you say?”

Louis sat up and reached forward. His stomach muscles crinkled under his baggy tank. He flicked his fingers just above the right side of his collarbone. Harry winced, his smile growing.

“Ah, right.” He rubbed the spot idly, imagining the bloom of deep red that would be there when he woke up the next day. He looked at Louis' neck, his matching bite throbbing. “At least you can wear a scarf to work.”

“I think I bit low enough so that it'll be under your shirt.”

“It's fine.” He thumbed Louis' jawline, studying the fine hair that grew around his mouth. He flattened on top of him, his body between his legs. “I don't mind it.”

“But do you like it?”

Harry kissed his outer bicep, dropping another soft peck on the top of his shoulder.

“Of course.”

Louis took a deep breath in, exhaling it out and stretching his legs.

“I'm getting very used to your orgasm duos.” He pushed his fingers through the front of Harry's hair, Harry smiling and kissing his collar bone. “Vampire.” 

“The other night,” Harry stopped kissing him, instead resting his face over his heart, “when you asked if I'd eaten yet,” he twirled his fingers slowly in the air, looking at the black television screen, “were you going to ask me to get food?”

Louis' eyes opened, a smile playing on his lips.

“Um, yeah, kind of.” He let his hand drop from Harry's hair. “We were ordering in from this fancy sandwich place I love. Me and Liam and Zayn.”

“Oh,” Harry said, voice airy. His eyelashes brushed Louis' neck. “Well, if...In the future, when you want to eat, if you want to eat with me or...You know,” his hand flopped side to side, “have me eat at the same place at the same time as you, just let me know.”

Louis smiled, fingers playing with the waves in the back of his head.

“Do you want to get some dinner now?” He pinched a particular meaty curl between his fingers. “I was going to make myself breakfast for dinner because I'm crazy and love breakfast food, but we can go someplace for food, if you want.”

“That sounds great,” Harry blurted out. He pulled his face out of Louis' neck to nod. “Breakfast, I mean. I love breakfast, too.”

Louis laughed and gently humped his hips up.

“You'll have to release me if you want me to make you pancakes.”

“Oh.” Harry looked down the length of their lounging bodies. “Right.” 

He smiled bashfully, rolling off towards the back of the sofa. Louis squirmed out from under him, giving his cheek a quick pinch. Harry sat up on the sofa and folded his hands in his lap, watching Louis walk into the kitchen in his rumbled black jeans and an even more rumpled baggy tank.

“You don't have to cook for me, if you don't want to. I'm sure you're tired from work and all, and I could cook you breakfast. I am a chef, after all.”

Louis smiled over his shoulder and waggled his finger at him.

“No, no. You don't get to cook tonight.” He turned on the sink, quickly soaping his hands and drying them on a white towel looped around his oven handle. “You've been cooking and baking all week.” He opened a cupboard, pulling out a box of pancake mix. “I'm sure you can handle just sitting and eating for a night.” Louis jutted his chin towards the telly. “Put whatever you want on, or my phone is plugged into the sound system, if you want to put some music on.” 

“Will you judge me if I pick telly over music?”

“No,” Louis laughed, taking eggs out of the refrigerator. He held a jug of milk with his other hand. “Do whatever you want.”

Harry turned on the television and flicked around, settling on one of the movie channels playing _Goodfellas_. He placed the remote on the coffee table and rested his hand behind his head. He toed his boots off, kicking them under the coffee table and extending his legs along the floor.

“My schedule's been so hectic, first birthday stuff and now this crazy week at work, that I haven't watched anything in well over a week.”

Louis gasped from the kitchen.

“How do you live?”

“I know,” Harry said, chuckling. He relaxed his neck, his shoulders lowering. The back of his head nuzzled the top of the sofa. “I felt like I was so cut off from the world.”

Louis hummed amongst the sound of metal bowls being moved around. Harry nearly dozed off, his eyes lulling half shut.

“Can you drink?”

“Drink what?” Harry asked, blinking himself awake. He looked up, Louis smiling at him with a bottle of beer in his hand. Louis prodded his nose with the tip, Harry smiling and taking the bottle from him. “Cheers, thanks. This'll help me sleep better.”

Louis pulled his own bottle away from his lips, swallowing a gulp of beer.

“I didn't know if you, like, don't drink before a big, uh, bake.” He moved the bottom of the bottle in a circle. “Or whatever this is called.”

“A big bake sounds like I'm about to smoke a ton of weed.”

They both laughed, Harry's eyes lulling shut, Louis moving back into the kitchen. 

“So, what kind of pancakes would you like? I can do chocolate chip,” he opened the fridge, bottles clinking, “blueberry, uhh,” he shut it with his bum, “banana, or strawberry.”

“Ooh, banana, please. Love them,” Harry said, his lips barely moving. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes still shut. “You have all that fruit in house?”

“Yup. Luckily for you,” a cabinet opened and closed, “I just went shopping yesterday. Banana it is.”

Louis prepped his ingredients and got into his cooking groove. The sizzle of bacon and eggs melded with the sound of quick talking mobsters and the occasional movie gunshot. He dumped their scrambled eggs in a ceramic bowl with a glass lid on top and put it on the center of the table. He placed a plate full of crispy bacon to the left of it. 

“Breakfast is almost served,” he said, turning the stove off. He used a spatula to add the remaining pancakes to each of their dishes. He put his finishing touches on each plate. “Harry?”

He turned from the stove with a plate in each hand, sliding them onto the table. He closed his mouth, feet frozen in place. Just the sound of ceramic scraping against the wood seemed intrusive.

He padded into the living room and was tempted to jump on the sofa. His steps sped up for a few seconds, but then he slowed. He paused, standing between the sofa and the coffee table. 

Harry was asleep, his body sitting upright and his head rolling off to the left. He had placed his beer on the coffee table, his arms limp at his sides and his ankles crossed under the table. His tee was off center on his chest, the stretch of his neck pulling it to the side to reveal his collar bone.

Louis' palm melded around his shoulder.

“Harry.” He gently shook him. “You wanna eat?”

“Hm?”

The upwards tilt of his hum made Louis giggle, his hand squeezing his bicep. 

“Breakfast. Do you want to eat?”

Harry's eyes opened slowly, his lashes shivering with each attempt to open his eyelids. He looked up at Louis for a beat, his gaze unfocused. Warmth suddenly flooded the air between them, Harry smiling wide.

“Hi.”

“Good morning.”

“Oh, shit, did I fall asleep?” Harry dabbed his mouth with the back of his hand, pulling it away. He saw a blot of shiny saliva and blushed, Louis watching his entire sleepy discovery on the brink of giggles. “I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep on you. Were you talking about something?” Harry sat up straighter, his socked feet sliding on the wood floor. He pressed his fists into his closed eyes and yawned. He dropped his hands and smiled, blinking hazily at him. “Did I snore?”

Louis shook his head, his hand going to Harry's neck without any thought. He touched just below his ear, smiling softly.

“No, I didn't even realize you'd fallen asleep.”

Harry smiled down at the couch, moving his feet on the floor.

“Okay.”

“Wanna eat, Sleeping Beauty?”

“Yes, please,” Harry said, snuffling a laugh. “Just need to get my legs to work.”

Louis prodded his stomach, singing, “Time to get up, time to get up,” and moving his scrunching fingers onto his sides.

“Alright, alright,” Harry laughed, his hands clumsily pawing at Louis' dexterous fingers. He pushed himself off the sofa, batting Louis' hands away from his torso. “I'm up, I'm up.”

“Good.” Louis pulled on his belt loop, both walking into the kitchen. “Because I'm starving and have a strong dislike for reheated pancakes.”

“Agreed. They get rubbery.”

Louis rounded the table, Harry taking in the huge meal he had set out for them with his hands holding the top of his chair. His mouth opened, no sound coming out, happy words brewing in his stomach but getting caught in his throat.

“Oh, you forgot your beer,” Louis said to himself, walking quickly around Harry. “I'll grab it.”

Harry dragged his fingers along the edge of his white plate, his grin just as wide as the whipped cream smiley face drawn on his stack of pancakes, two banana slices as the eyes and a square of butter as the nose. He went to pull his chair out, but Louis was back, pulling it out for him.

“Take a seat. Make yourself comfortable.” He put the bottle next to Harry's plate. Harry went to the sink to wash his hands. “I hope you like to eat.” 

“I definitely do.” He sat down, watching Louis sit across the table. “Very romantic,” he said, jutting his chin at the single white candle lit in the center. “And festive.”

“Yeah, well, you said you missed my come face.” Louis pulled his own chair in. His bare feet tangled with Harry's ankles under the table. “The least I could do was light a coconut cream pie scented candle that's shaped like a snowman. One of the administrative assistants gave it to me for the holidays.”

“I couldn't imagine a more perfect gift for you.”

Louis laughed while dumping syrup over his pancakes. Harry used his fork to cut a bite of pancake, lifting it to his mouth. He chewed for a moment, his jaw fluttering with the motion, his eyes focused at the plate. 

Fluffy, yet rich. Sweet, yet not too sugary. Banana filled, yet still cakey.

“Eggs?”

“Yes, please,” Harry answered automatically, Louis spooning a generous portion of eggs on his plate. “So, these are really good,” he said out of the corner of his mouth. 

“Aw, thanks.”

Harry licked his lips, spearing another bite. Then another. Then another, until he was almost done with his hearty stack of pancakes. He moved on to his eggs.

“Did you mix the banana in with the milk first?”

“Mmhmm,” Louis said around a bite of pancake. “My mum used to watch cooking shows all the time when I was little. They always said to mix wet with wet and dry with dry before combining.”

“Very good,” Harry laughed softly, his foot nudging Louis' shin. “We've got a little chef over here.”

“Ha ha,” Louis said, his cheeks heating, smiling around the prongs of his fork.

“And you make really good eggs,” Harry remarked, staring at his plate. “Like, really, really well prepared.”

Louis forked a fluffy piece of egg.

“I make them like Gordon Ramsay says to. I watched a YouTube video.”

“You like him?” Harry laughed.

“I do, yeah. I love that he curses while cooking. Two of my favorite things combined. Speaking of cooking,” Louis pointed his fork across the table, “tell me more about this whole gala process. I wish someone was filming it so I could watch it at three in the morning when I can't sleep.”

“Ah, well, um.” Harry sat up straighter, filing away Louis' sleep issues and love of cursing for another conversation. “It's honestly just a lot of planning and scheduling, taking things like ingredient shelf life and what needs to be refrigerated into account. I can't make too many things more than a day or two in advance, or else it'll either melt or go stale. We're doing some of our normal pastries, but then we're also elevating a few of our normals. Like...”

Louis raised his eyebrows, eyes glued to Harry's face.

“Like?”

“Sorry,” Harry spun his beer bottle on the table, smiling and dropping his eyes, “am I talking too much about this? It's not the most interesting.”

“No, not at all!” His feet brushed against Harry's. “I'm very interested in everything you have to say!”

“Oh,” Harry said on a little laugh, Louis' eyes now skirted away from Harry's smiling gaze. “Alright, well...When you're dealing with such delicate, high end ingredients, timing is sort of the most important. So, the week has sort of been multiple stages of planning and execution. Today was a really long prep day.”

“But is tomorrow the big day?”

“Yup. I'll probably leave my place at around,” his eyes arched towards the ceiling, “four? Four-fifteen, maybe. Then I won't be back until after the gala ends and everything is cleaned up, so...Probably around midnight. Then I'm back in the bakery by six.”

Louis' jaw dropped.

“Fuck, that's too long to work for! How can you stand it?”

“It's not usually like that. This is just a big thing for Helena, so we're going above and beyond. She put me in charge of everything, which is fine, but I'm a bit of a perfectionist.” He moved on from eggs to bacon, attacking half the plate of crispy goodness. “I'll stay up for days if I need to get something done.”

“I'm the same way.”

“We actually have culinary students who are volunteering as interns for this. I'm in charge of interns.” He bit into another strip of bacon, laughing, “Isn't that nuts?”

“So, you're their boss?”

“I guess so? I dunno. I've never had interns before. They're really good, though, and take direction really well.”

Louis cut his final piece of pancake in half, folding the pieces on top of each other and stabbing them with his fork.

“I sometimes have a couple of interns at work, but it sounds hotter when you're in charge.”

Harry laughed at that, rolling his eyes.

“I won't look very hot after everything is all done.”

“I find that hard to believe. 

“I'll be done by around noon on Saturday, plus I have off Sunday and the bakery is closed on Monday, which will be quite nice.”

“Normally I'd suggest for you to spend those two days with your tongue attached to me, but if I was you, I'd sleep both days.”

Harry laughed and forked his final bite of breakfast, a combined stack of pancake, bacon, and eggs.

“That all sounds good to me. Sleep. Tonguing you. A healthy mix.” He hummed with food in his mouth, his lips tightly shut. He swallowed. “Oh, and yoga. I need to go running and go to yoga all three days. I've been slacking and my back is gonna be a disaster on Saturday.”

“Yeah, I can really tell. It's not like you're outrageously fit anymore or anything.” Louis frowned and pouted his lips forward, shaking his head, Harry snorting and stealing the last piece of bacon off Louis' plate. “You've really let yourself go, mate.”

“Oh!” He sucked the salty pad of his thumb. “My place is having a freebie weekend, if you want to come try a class. I can email you their website link.”

“Hmm, maybe, yeah,” Louis said, lifting his bottle to his lips. His head tilted back to finish the beer. “Maybe a little change would be good.”

“Thank you again for dinner. It was amazing.”

“No problem,” Louis said, beer dribbling down his chin. His hand flew to his mouth, his eyes wide. “Gross, sorry,” he laughed, wiping under his chin, “I mean, you're welcome.”

Harry stood from the table with his empty plate in his hands. He went to the sink, squirting soap on the plate and plopping it in a frying pan.

“You don't have to do that,” Louis said quickly, standing up. “Let me do that. You're my guest.”

“So?” Harry smiled down at the sudsy sink and blocked Louis with his body, Louis' shorter arms attempting to reach around him. “You cooked, I can clean.”

“You,” Louis said, taking the soap out of Harry's hand, “should go sit on the couch and watch the end of your movie. I'll take care of this.”

Harry sighed and patted Louis' cheek with his wet hand. 

Louis laughed, “Hey,” and flicked soap suds at Harry's face, Harry giggling and wrinkling his nose. “Sit.”

Harry hugged him from behind and planted a kiss under his ear. He whispered, “Now who's the boss in charge?” and bit his neck softly.

Louis grinned into the soapy frying pan, Harry patting his bum before moving into the living room. He finished up the dishes and dried his hands on a towel.

“You still awake in there?”

“Yes,” Harry said, chuckling. “I'm awake. I'll stay until the end of the movie. Then I should take off.”

“Do you want another beer?”

“No, I'm good, thanks.”

“Cool.”

Louis went to the sofa and flopped down on the opposite side of Harry, folding one leg under his bum. He studied the movie, settling his head against the plush back of the couch. Ray Liotta was on the screen driving a car and looking for helicopters in the sky.

“I love this part,” he said, rubbing his bum into the cushions. 

Harry hummed and shifted on his side of the couch. 

“Me too.” He slid his arm along the back of the couch, his fingertips mere inches from Louis' shoulder. “Thanks again for dinner. That was amazing.”

Louis giggled, “It was just breakfast food.”

“But it was really good.” He touched the very edge of Louis' shoulder, smiling at the television. “You're a really good cook.”

Louis found himself leaning closer, Harry's fingers now stroking the warm skin next to his shirt strap. 

“It didn't occur to me to be nervous to cook for you until I was already elbow deep in mushed bananas, so I'm glad it wasn't terrible.”

“Nope. Not terrible at all. Hey, Lou?”

“Hm?”

“Come over here.”

“Why?”

“'Cause my arm is long, but not quite long enough to reach around your shoulders.”

Louis smiled and lifted himself up, bouncing closer on the sofa. He kept his face towards the screen, but sank into Harry's warmth.

“You putting the moves on me?”

Harry's arm wrapped around him, Louis' head nudging against his shoulder. 

“Nah.” He tapped his fingertips against his arm. “I'd have these fingers in your arse if I was making the moves on you.”

They both laughed, Louis' laugh higher and Harry's a touch dirtier. Louis brought his feet onto the sofa, his knees bent and his feet tucked between the cushions and the back of the sofa. They were silent for a few breaths. Now Ray Liotta was in court to defend himself against Robert DeNiro and an army of goodfellas.

“Is this weird?” Louis asked.

“Why would it be weird?”

“I don't usually...” His lips closed for a beat. “Friends with benefits don't normally do...This.”

Harry squeezed him tighter, his ankles crossed under the coffee table.

“I'm not really interested in what other friends with benefits do. Your hair smells really nice, by the way.”

“Good answer.”

Harry's nose brushed through his hair and Louis smiled, his fingers walking along the top of Harry's leg. His palm flattened on his inner thigh without thought, Harry's leg spreading further to the side to allow Louis' soft rubs.

“Besides, I think we naturally err more on the friends side than the benefits side.”

“Oh really?” Louis' eyes started to feel heavy. The smell of Harry's clothes was so similar to the smell of his clean skin, which made Louis' brain think of being in bed, which led to him feeling sleepy. “We don't do the benefits enough for you?”

“ _The benefits_ sounds so silly,” Harry giggled lowly, his voice starting to show signs of exhaustion. “And no, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant...I don't usually do as well with the physical alone.”

“I feel like you'd probably be just fine at that.”

“You know what I mean. In and out orgasms.”

“That's usually how orgasms are achieved.”

Harry laughed softly.

“I like to know the person attached to the penis, is what I mean. It makes it better for everyone.”

“Pure poetry,” Louis yawned.

Harry dug his thumb into his shoulder, both smiling while watching the end of the movie.

. . .

**i feel like cooking real food tonight...you hungry?**

_real food? i knew you were the person in a group that accidentally ate plastic fruit off a center piece and kind of enjoyed it...aw bless_

**the grapes are my fave <3 **

_are you arranging a bizarre CD exchange or do you actually want to feed me? i figured you'd be passed out by now_

**i'd enjoy both, but might fall asleep after dinner, so let's stick with food for now and see what develops.**

_i'll keep you awake long enough to finish preparing my meal. then you can pass out._

**sounds good**

_i'll bring wine_

**even better! you have to make dessert though.**

_k, will pick smthg up_

**nope. you have to prep it yourself...i'm sure you're up for the challenge**

_you're a terrible host and dinner hasn't even been served yet_

**says the man who made me run half naked out of the back of his building because he thought he heard a voice that sounded like zayn's coming through the vents**

_alright, alright. you win!_

**do you like salmon?**

_yum yes_

**cool :) see you at six-ish**

. . .

“I think your steps are steeper or something.” Louis gave Harry a bottle of white wine. “I get winded whenever I climb them.”

“Maybe you're just so excited to be in my presence.”

“Ha,” Louis barked, poking Harry's stomach through his white apron. “Love the look, by the way.”

“You know, sometimes you say thing sarcastically, but your eyes do a little,” Harry shimmied his shoulders, “twinkle. And a part of me thinks that you actually mean what you say.”

Louis' lips twitched, Harry's unwavering, happy gaze making his teeth peek out in a wide smile.

“Well?” Harry crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. “What's for dessert?” The right side of his mouth lifted, his voice deepening. “Did you meet my culinary challenge?”

Louis handed over a plastic container with a red rubber top, pushing thoughts of Harry bossing him around like Gordon Ramsay out of his head.

“See for yourself.”

Harry popped the top open and then made a noise high in the back of his throat, an enormous grin splitting his face. Gordon likely never made those noises when he was pleased, but it worked for Harry.

“You made chocolate chip cookie ice cream sandwiches?”

“I did. It was all I had on hand, plus it gave me an excuse to eat some melty ice cream. I like it when it's melty.”

Harry tilted the container and kept smiling, Louis able to feel heat on his face once Harry looked directly at him.

“You're so ador—” Harry snapped his lips shut, laughing abruptly and saying, “Smart. Very clever.”

Louis put his hands in his pockets.

“I like a challenge.”

“So do I.”

Louis' fluttering heart revved up again, even though he was no longer climbing steps. 

“Please, come in,” Harry said, stepping quickly backwards. “You want a glass of wine? Or I have beer, too. Let me put these away and then I'll take your coat.”

“Wine sounds great. And no worries,” Louis shrugged his coat off, toeing his shoes off at the door, “I'll take care of my coat.”

“Cool. Dinner's almost ready.”

Louis sat on a stool at the marble island, giving him a prime view of Harry as he moved around the kitchen. He looked as if he could be blindfolded with his hands cuffed behind his back and he'd still be able to cook a meal with ease.

“How did everything go at the gala?”

“Oh, it was great, actually. Thanks for asking,” Harry said, placing an empty wine glass in front of him. He held the bottle of wine against his torso, arm twisting a corkscrew into the top. “Tiring, but amazing. The museum liked it so much that they want us to do all their events going forward.”

“Wow!”

“Yeah, it was nice that everything was so well received. My assistants all did an amazing job, so hopefully we can get them back for special events.” 

“They likely did an amazing job because you were their leader.”

Harry smiled and snuffled a laugh, popping the cork. He glanced at Louis through his eyelashes.

“I don't know about that.”

“You know,” Louis said, mimicking Harry's slower drawl and ruffling his imaginary wavy hair, “sometimes you act all bashful about things that we both know are true.”

“Ha ha,” Harry said, smiling. “You're very clever.”

“I know.” Louis adjusted his fake hair. “And you're an anomaly.”

Harry's brows furrowed while he tipped the bottle of white wine into Louis' glass. He turned away from him to scoop something out of a large metal sauce pan onto three plates.

“How so?”

“You're so attractive and charming that you could literally just stay in bed all day and have people do all the work.” Louis shifted to sit on his left foot. He propped his chin on his palm, his elbow on the island. Harry turned on the sink and put the pot inside, nodding along with his chatter. “Blow jobs on tap, if you wanted. Yet you like to give and do all the dirty work.”

“Ah.” Harry turned off the sink and removed his apron. His pale grey shirt rode up on his stomach when he lifted his arms over his head. “I see.”

Louis lifted his glass.

“Well?”

Harry hung his apron on a hook next to the stove. He got a glass for himself.

“I guess I like getting dirty because it feels so good to get clean afterwards. Kind of like how I like feeling tired because it usually means I did something right.” 

He shrugged and poured himself some wine. Louis stared at him as he took a sip, his eyes unblinking.

“Christ,” Louis took a large gulp, “you make everything sound so hot. You're describing the act of being tired, and yet I feel like I'm gonna come in my pants before the salmon's even done.”

Harry laughed loudly and left his glass on the island. He turned to the counter and stretched plastic wrap over one of the plates. He put that plate in the refrigerator, stating, “For Niall,” and returning to their two plates.

“Lucky flatmate.”

Harry slid one plate in front of Louis. His palm gestured to the artfully stacked portions of food, a large salmon fillet balanced diagonally on top of a pile of creamy looking rice, plump green vegetables on a half circle around the edge of the round plate.

“So, what I've made is just a really simple poached salmon with a dijon sauce, plus some roasted courgettes and what I call my country risotto, because it's got a bunch of vegetables in it. Asparagus, mushrooms, onions, though onions are included in most risottos.” He chuckled softly and put his hands in his pockets. “I went a bit veggie crazy.”

Louis stared at the elegant plate.

“I think I'm going to throw my ice cream sandwiches out the window.”

Harry laughed and tugged on his earlobe.

“Don't be silly. They look amazing. So creative.”

Louis pointed at his plate and smiled at Harry.

“No, no. _This_ looks amazing.” Harry handed him a fork and knife wrapped in a napkin. “My sandwiches look like they were made by an infant. You didn't have to do all this.”

“It's really not a big deal. I eat far too much instant macaroni and cheese for a normal person. It was nice to cook savory for once. Plus, I find grocery shopping relaxing.”

Louis' eyes lit up, a small shiver running through his body.

“Me too. What's your favourite aisle?”

“Ooh,” Harry said, as if he was in pain, clutching his heart. “What a choice.” He sat on a matching stool across the island. “I'd say it's a tie between...Fruit and cheese.”

Louis smiled wide. 

“Those are mine, too.”

He placed his napkin on his lap, crossing his feet on the bottom rung of the stool. He lifted his fork and poised it at his salmon. His arm dropped.

“You alright?”

“It's so pretty I don't want to disturb it.” Louis smiled across the island at him, his eyes curved half shut. Harry gripped the island, his hand fumbling with his fork. Now a shiver settled in his stomach. Louis clapped his hands together softly, his eyes growing impossibly warmer. “You even did one of those chef-y sauce smear things with little dots.”

Harry speared a sliver of courgette.

“Enjoy.”

Louis dabbed sauce along the end of his salmon fillet and lifted a piece to his mouth. The minute the sauce hit his tongue, all of its creamy, sweet, tangy, perfectly salty notes exploding over his palate, his lips closed around the prongs of his fork, a soft hum vibrating against the metal.

“Oh my God,” he said after swallowing, squinting at Harry's smiling face. For a moment, he looked to be in pain, until the muscles of his face relaxed into a smile. “This is outrageous.”

Their conversation slowed for most of the meal, Louis unable to do more than make quiet noises of pleasure while Harry stifled his laughter with bites of food. He was still in a food daze when Harry got up and started to clear their dishes.

“Oh, let me help,” Louis said, feet stuck on the bottom rung of the stool. He fumbled to stand, Harry rinsing their dishes. “What can I do?”

“Nothing. Thank you, though.”

Louis watched Harry load the dishwasher, his sink spanking clean without a dirty pan in sight. Even the counter looked clean enough to eat off of.

“I would have helped you clean up.”

“No dishes to clean up,” Harry said, bumping Louis' hip in passing. He closed the dishwasher. “That's a chef thing, I suppose. Cleaning as I go.” He pointed at the dishwasher. “You can push the button, if you want.”

Louis turned towards him and stared at his lips. Harry's cheeky smile faded, his body leaning closer. He tilted his head, his eyes darting from Louis' eyes to his lips. Louis smirked and pressed the button, the dishwasher humming to life.

“Done,” he whispered, leaning just out of Harry's reach. Harry's lips planted on his jawline, then pulled away. Their eyes met and Louis' smirk grew to a smile. Harry's chest shuddered with an uneven breath, the air no longer shared between them. “Need help with anything else?”

“No, uh,” Harry ran his hand through his hair, turning in a circle, “wanna do dessert on the sofa? I need to sit on something soft.”

“Is that a double entendre for sex on the sofa?”

“No,” Harry laughed, calming himself at the freezer. He opened it and took the container out. “I meant actual dessert.”

“Sounds good.”

Louis picked up both of their wine glasses and moved into the living room. Harry settled on the sofa with the plastic container on his lap, both sitting facing each other on the sofa. He threw a paper napkin at Louis' face, earning his knee a firm squeeze.

“This feels familiar,” Louis said, taking a sandwich.

“Right? We've had so much sofa time lately. Mmm,” Harry tilted his head back and hummed, “cookies and cream?”

“Mmhmm.”

Harry gave him a thumbs up.

“Excellent choice,” he said with a big bite of sandwich in his mouth, the words coming out more like, “Eh-ha-ha-cha.”

“Why are you single again?”

Harry chuckled around his bite of sandwich, a drip of ice cream melting on the corner of his mouth.

“Seriously, though, why are you?”

“Why do you ask?”

Louis shrugged, his head nearly upside down while trying not to spill cookie crumbles.

“Just curious.” Louis licked his lips, hurrying to add, “Sorry, that was rude of me to ask. You don't have to--”

“No, it's a normal question. No worries. I didn't...Hmm.” Harry licked his middle finger, squinting thoughtfully. “When I was younger,” his eyes widened and his forehead tilted forward, “like in culinary school and at my first job as a chef, I was friends with a sort of...Wild group. We partied. A lot.” His eyes flickered to Louis. “Like, all the time. And then, when I got tired of that--and not the good tired I like, I mean actually exhausted and kind of unhappy—I decided to move on from that lifestyle, but most of them weren't ready to move on. Which is fine. It just wasn't the lifestyle for me. So,” he shrugged one shoulder, “the people I used to date or fuck weren't interested in what I had to offer anymore.”

Louis hummed and went for another sandwich.

“Do you still keep in touch with any of them?”

“Some of them, yeah, but only casually. They're all really good people, and a lot of them are still in the pastry chef, erm,” he swirled his bit of sandwich in the air, “world. So I run into them from time to time. We just don't really go deeper.”

“Deeper.”

“Mmhmm.” Harry's pink tongue slipped over the corner of his mouth, a drop of white melting on the tip. “These are great, by the way.”

“If you had to rank them compared to my pancakes, where would they stand?”

“Oh, well, pancakes win in that matchup. No questions there. But your scrambled eggs are technically the most superior.”

Louis smiled and slid his toes under Harry's thighs.

“I like the way you talk.”

Harry grinned at him, ice cream dotting his top lip. Louis reached out and thumbed the spot, Harry's tongue snaking out for a lick.

“Excuse me,” Louis said, scandalized, his hand clutched to his chest, “but I was told dessert on the sofa meant strictly dessert. No funny business.”

Harry chuckled throatily.

“I would never.” He sucked his own thumb into his mouth. “I was trying to help you out.” His eyes twinkled, his head tilted with an innocent smile. “You know better than most that I can be a really messy eater.”

Louis groaned a laugh and fell back on the sofa, Harry giggling and finishing off the ice cream sandwiches. Louis prodded Harry's stomach with his toes.

“That was a ridiculous thing to say.”

“You loved it.”

Louis smiled at the ceiling, softly saying, “Yeah, I kind of did.” His eyes moved in a slow, curious circle, warm hands rubbing the bony tops of his feet. “Hey, hey!” He started to laugh properly and tried to sit up, Harry squeezing his knees. “This is funny business!” He couldn't push Harry's hands off before he reached mid-thigh, his legs spasming against Harry. He giggled, “Fuck, not the legs!”

Harry laughed and stood up, Louis panting on the sofa with his limbs spread. He carried the empty container into the kitchen and grabbed their half full wine bottle.

“Wanna watch a movie or something? I think I'm too tired for funny business or CDs or dessert or whatever we're calling it today.”

Louis checked his watch for the time. He had cleared his schedule for the night once they made plans. He had some work to take care of before Monday, but that could wait until tomorrow after yoga.

“When's Niall getting back?”

“Not for hours. He's bartending at a private party that won't even end until early morning.”

“Alright.”

Louis propped himself up on his elbows and scooted his bum backwards, leaving half the sofa empty. Harry refilled their glasses and settled on the far end of the couch. Louis' foot prodded his thigh. He looked over his glass at him.

“What?”

“C'mere.”

“That sounds familiar, too.”

Louis smiled and sat with his back resting against the arm of the sofa, spreading his legs.

“Sit over here.” He patted his chest. “Your back to me.”

Harry smiled, confused, but he obeyed. He slid across the sofa and rested his back against Louis' chest. He swapped his glass of wine for the remote control and turned on the television, searching for something to watch. His brows rose, a soft kiss brushed against the side of his neck. 

Louis whispered, “Take your shirt off for me,” and smoothed his hands down the fronts of Harry's shoulders.

“But,” Harry said slowly, already pulling his shirt off, “why?”

His shirt wilted on his lap, Louis' lean legs shifting to hug his body. Thumbs smoothed down the sides of his neck, pressing into the tops of his shoulders. His palms opened for a series of smooth, fluid stroked up his neck and down to his shoulder. Harry's mouth popped open, bursts of relief exploding under his skin with each firm press.

“Your skin is like milk,” Louis murmured, thumbs rubbing slow, deep circles down his upper back. He kissed the back of his neck. “So soft.”

Harry's strained voice asked, “Am I asleep already?”

Louis smiled and smoothed his palms over his shoulders, rubbing warmth into his buttery skin.

“You feel tense,” he said softly, his fingers massaging down to his shoulder blades. “Too much lifting and bending.” He held Harry's wrist and bent his arm behind his back, his hand placed under Louis' thigh. He eyed the sharp jut of his shoulder blade and rubbed the side of his palm along the line. Harry's throat pushed out a deep moan, his lower back arching, his hand twitching against Louis' thigh. Louis chuckled, “You like that there?”

“Yes.” He moaned and let his eyes fall shut, Louis repeating the motion on his other side. “Jesus Christ.”

“Good pressure?”

“Y-Yeah.”

Louis rubbed smooth, hot, open-palmed strokes over his upper back for a few seconds, his feet curling underneath Harry's thighs.

“That's my favorite place to get massaged when I'm stressed, too. I think it's called your scapula or your spatula or something. If you want, you can get on your stomach and I can do your lower back.”

Harry's lips closed and opened a few times, his body rapidly heating and going pliant against Louis' firm weight.

“Why are you doing this at all?”

“Because you said your back would be a disaster after your busy work schedule.” Louis' fingers strayed from the massage to slip under his arms, his fingers wiggling deeper. “Duh.”

Harry smiled and squirmed, his arms tight to his sides. Louis did something between his shoulder blades that made him blow air through his circled lips on an, “Ooof,” his neck arching to the side.

“You're...” Harry cleared his throat, his voice still gruff to say, “You're really good at this.”

“Thanks. Liam's a massage therapist and we lived together the entire time he was training. I ended up being a test dummy for him, and I'd try things on him when he needed me to, so I picked up some tricks along the way.”

“So, you and Liam spent hours rubbing each other? Is it wrong for me to find that arousing?”

“Yes,” Louis laughed, jostling him with his legs. Harry smiled and relaxed against him, Louis still massaging his shoulders. “Silly perv. And how do you even know what Liam looks like?”

“I saw...” Harry's eyes darted side to side. “The photo near your bedroom.”

“Oh. Right.”

Louis continued to massage him, squeezing along the tense bands of muscle that led to his neck. He watched Harry's head loll to the side, his sweet smelling hair tickling his face. His muscled stomach looked soft as it ballooned up and down, quiet breaths exhaled out of his nose. His bare feet rubbed together at the end of the sofa and cuddled between the cushions. Louis had never met someone who managed to inspire such affection while fast asleep.

“You up?”

He smiled at the lack of response and smoothed his hands over Harry's chest, letting them stay there while he watched the end of the movie _You've Got Mail_.

Harry inhaled deeply around twenty minutes later, his head pressing back against Louis' shoulder.

“Told you I was going to fall asleep,” he rasped, flexing his feet.

“You more than deserve it. Want me to go?”

Harry nuzzled his head backwards into him.

“Not at all.” He stroked the top of Louis' hand on his chest, tracing the delicate bones of his wrist. He smiled sleepily. “I just hope I didn't say anything terribly embarrassing in my sleep like last time.”

Louis grinned into his hair and rubbed his chest.

“Ah, yes. I forgot about that.” He dragged his fingertips down the center of his abs. “I haven't even properly tormented you about that yet.”

“Nope,” Harry said, sounding sleepy but very pleased. “I'm looking forward to whatever punishment you deem necessary.”

Louis continued to lightly touch over his stomach, fingertips fascinated by the downy hair that grew around his navel and the smooth skin of his nipples. He himself would be hysterical laughing if Harry treated him to the same teasing touches to his belly, but Harry seemed happy to be on the receiving end of his gentle exploration. Harry's palm smoothed down the side of his calf, landing at his ankle. He squeezed the top of his foot, letting his hand stay there.

“In truth,” Louis' voice dropped almost to a whisper, his words muffled by Harry's hair, “you fell asleep about a minute into the conversation.”

Harry tilted his head back on Louis' chest.

“I did?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Then why did you keep the call going for so long?”

Louis smiled at him, his eyes soft but his gaze never leaving Harry's upside down face. One fingertip stroked the front of Harry's throat, circling his Adam's apple.

“You have a very relaxing snore.”

Harry breathed, “Oh,” through his rosy, full lips, his eyes rounded.

“Yeah,” Louis said, his voice just as breathy. He swallowed, his smile tighter and with his mouth shut. He thumbed Harry's right nipple. “I should probably go.”

“Oh, uh,” Harry said, bringing his head back to a normal position. Just that small movement made his vision feel swimmy. “Okay. If you want to.”

Louis eased his way out from under him, ignoring the sparks of heat that ignited over every inch of his skin that came in contact with Harry's bare back. He put his feet on the floor and stood up, trying to figure out where his last statement came from. Harry was warm and lovely and kind and such good conversation that Louis didn't know if he wanted to suck him or talk with him until he was hoarse. 

He stepped into his black Vans, Harry appearing in front of him with his coat. Louis smiled and put his arms in the sleeves, Harry helping him put it on.

“Thanks so much for dinner.”

“Sure, anytime.”

“Like I said, it was absolutely delicious.”

Harry smiled as they walked to the door, one hand stroking through his hair. 

“Cool. Glad you liked--” Harry found himself trailing off again. Louis' warm hand curled around the back of his neck while he pressed a kiss to his cheek. “It. Liked it.”

Louis giggled softly and pecked his cheek again, quicker.

“I'll see you—Oh!” Louis pulled back and slapped his forehead, smiling. “I forgot to mention that I think I'm going to go to your yoga place tomorrow. Do you ever go to the eleven o'clock class?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, brain whirling back into motion, “that's the one I usually go to when I'm off on Sundays. I was going to go tomorrow.”

“Alright, cool, I'll see you then.”

“Cool.”

Louis opened the door and stepped into the hallway.

“Louis?”

“Yeah?”

He turned to face Harry, who had neglected to pull his shirt back on and was wearing just black skinnies, his forearm propped against the doorframe. If questioned, Louis would blame his couple of glasses of wine on the lightheaded feeling over taking him, not the stretch of Harry's tawny side and the deepening curve of soft brown hair under his arm.

Harry started to ask, “Do you just not like...Like being...Or getting...” Louis' eyebrows arched upwards. “Uh...”

“Not like what?”

Harry bit his bottom lip, his stomach flip flopping. He smiled wide and knocked his fist against the doorframe.

“Nevermind. I'll, uh, see you at yoga tomorrow.”

“Cool.” Louis' eyes did a quick scan over his body. His eyelid flickered with the barest of winks. “Wear something skimpy and tight, yeah?”

Harry laughed, “I'll try,” and waggled his fingers to wave goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gordon Ramsay's eggs, which are delicious!
> 
> . . .
> 
> Title is from my favorite Tegan and Sara song, [ Relief Next To Me ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yftgnkdan8%20)
> 
> Come say hello on [ LJ](http://dolce-piccante.livejournal.com) and [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com) :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendship, fun, food, chatter. Around 10,200 words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU for all the comments and kudos!! It makes me so happy and I'm incredibly grateful for the readers who are following this story and enjoying, so thank you!! I'm posting early because I don't honestly know if I'll be around to post on Sunday like normal. Hopefully that is okay!
> 
> Thank you as always to [Jess](whitechimes.tumblr.com) for her incredible patience, help, and support!

Louis unrolled his blue mat on the warm mauve carpet of the studio and kneeled at the end. He stretched his neck side to side while smoothing down the corners of the mat.

“Hello again.”

He looked up at the quiet greeting. Harry gave him a small smile and unrolled his purple mat on the spot next to him. Louis sat back on his bare feet, his shins pressed into the mat.

“Hi.” 

He tilted his head back further to smile up at him, Harry standing up straight and bringing his hands between his shoulder blades. Louis watched his dark blue long sleeve tee disappear over his head, his black tank underneath riding up just a touch on his stomach. Louis' eyes flickered from his navel to his hips. He must have already left his jeans in the locker room and changed into his yoga attire.

“Good day?”

“Yeah.” Harry's gaze flickered over Louis' body, his eyes sparkling once back at his face. He dropped his blue tee beside his mat. “Better now.”

Louis smiled wider and looked down, pulling his black tank lower on his stomach. He could barely keep his eyes to himself for the first two classes they happened to both be in; maybe Harry felt the same way.

Harry sat on his mat, long legs extended straight in front of him. He rubbed his hands over his shins, clingy black yoga pants hitting just above his knees. He wiggled his toes lazily, Louis' eyes drawn to the motion.

“You like the classes here?”

“I do,” Louis said, watching more people filter into the wide room. “It's a bit closer to work and they have this class, the five-thirty, that I can make before I go home, instead of having to go home and then wait around for the seven at the other place.”

“Nice.”

“Thanks again for the freebie pass.”

“Yea, of course, no problem.” Harry crossed his ankles, smiling at Louis. “It's nice to have a yoga buddy who actually likes to go regularly.” He unfurled a strip of fern green wrapped around his wrist. “Most of my other friends aren't really the fitness types.”

“I'm the least fitness of fitness types.”

“Niall made it through approximately three minutes of a class and refused to ever return. I think you've got him beat.”

Louis giggled and stretched his right arm across his chest.

“Do you want to get a juice or tea after class?”

Harry pulled the headband over his head.

“Yeah,” he fluffed his hair up and smiled at Louis, “definitely. I've got my car with me, so I can give you a lift home, too.” 

“Great, thanks.”

“Actually, um,” Harry lowered his voice, the instructor taking her place at the front of the class, “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah?”

They both stood up from the floor with their feet about shoulder width apart, their posture mirrored by the other class members. They let their heads drop backwards, their hands clasped together and pushing up underneath their chins.

“Yeah, but it can wait until after class,” Harry whispered.

Louis whispered back, “Okay,” already able to hear Harry's deep breaths next to him. 

Ninety minutes, a lot of sweat, and only two bumbled poses later (Harry was distracted by the stretch of Louis' legs in standing bow pose, while Louis almost toppled over when he saw Harry in back bend pose), the class was over, all of the students resting on their backs with their eyes shut.

“It's been five minutes, everyone,” the soothing voice of their instructor said. “If you are comfortable leaving, feel free to make your way out of the studio. If not, take as much time as you need to return to homeostasis.” She inhaled deeply. “Namaste.”

“Namaste,” the students replied in unison.

Harry's eyes fluttered open. He flexed his toes, bending his knees and pressing his feet into his mat.

“I'm gonna go change,” he said softly, Louis' humming and stretching his arms over his head. He let his sweaty lower back lift off the ground. “Christ,” Harry murmured, pushing himself up, “your arms.”

Louis grinned and opened his eyes. Harry was smiling down at him, his entire body drenched in sweat with his neck especially wet, a white towel looped around his shoulders. Louis gave a little flex and propped his hands behind his head. Harry sighed, “Tease,” as he turned away from Louis, his sweating face growing warmer. 

Louis waited another minute before he rolled his body up, running his hands through his sweaty hair. He gathered his belongings and padded out of the studio, making a beeline for the locker room. He got there in time to see Harry pulling a fresh black tee on.

“I'll change quick,” Louis said, dropping his gym bag on a bench.

“No worries.” Harry sat down, straddling the bench. He lifted one foot while he struggled with a sock. “I can wait.”

Louis wiped his face and neck with a clean towel before pulling his gym clothes off. He had shaved finally and was still getting used to having a smooth face. He cleaned up and changed in the amount of time it took Harry to put on his socks and shoes.

“One thing I like about the other place is that it has a sauna,” Louis said, shrugging his coat on. “The locker room is very oasis-ish. They're into fountains.”

Harry stood from the bench, his rucksack over his shoulders.

“Ooh, that sounds nice.” He buttoned his coat. “Who doesn't love a good fountain while changing their shorts?”

“If you want to try it, I could get you a guest pass. I think they do a deal for new students.”

“Alright, that sounds good, thanks.” Harry held the locker room door open for him. “Though they might find me strange when I don't use the pass for yoga, I just come in to nap in the sauna and swim in the fountains.”

Louis laughed, Harry nudging their shoulders together. They walked to the juice bar and got in line. While Harry squinted at the vast combination of fruits and vegetables and powders that could be mixed into a smoothie, Louis bounced on the balls of his feet, his mind wandering. 

At first, he was concerned that it would be strange to spend time with Harry outside of the bedroom (or sofa). For all of his previous friends with benefits relationships, they limited their interactions to that of a strictly physical nature. 

But with Harry, it somehow just worked. The easy energy between them transferred shockingly well to the world of actual friendship. 

“I bet I know which one you're going to get,” Harry said, Louis' eyes glancing at the menu quickly.

“Oh yeah? Which one?”

“The Berry-splosion,” Harry said without question.

Louis grinned and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck.

“Maybe.” 

There was a pause, Harry looking from the menu to Louis' face. 

Louis sighed, “Alright, yeah, that's what I was going to get. You're so smart, Mister Headband.”

Harry giggled and pulled his wallet out of his pocket. 

“Two Berry-splosions, please,” he said to the dreadlocked man behind the counter, handing over some cash. Louis frowned, taking his wallet out. Harry knocked his bum into Louis' hand. “Nah, I got this.”

“You don't have to,” Louis said quickly.

“Lou, it's fine,” he laughed, ignoring Louis' attempts to slip money into his hand. “I've got it.”

Louis sighed and pushed his fingers into Harry's side, prompting Harry's lips to curl into a smile, his hand gently pushing Louis' fingers away. Louis reached across the counter and dropped his cash into the tip jar. His eyes widened at the lit case of vegan granola bars, body still bent over. A warm hand rubbed his lower back.

“I'm probably sweaty,” Louis said, the hand smoothing between his shoulder blades. “Definitely am.”

“I like you sweaty.”

Louis' face felt hotter than the floor of their yoga studio after back to back classes. He shuffled backwards and took his place next to Harry.

“Here we are,” the man behind the counter said, placing two bright red smoothies on the counter. “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, thank you,” Harry said. He handed Louis his smoothie first, then grabbed his drink. He held it up towards the man. “Thanks so much.”

“Have a good night!”

They walked out of the studio in silence, both sucking on their straws. Harry's keys jingled as he spun them around his middle finger.

“Just down the road,” he said, gesturing for Louis to turn left at the end of the street.

Harry held up his key and pressed on the black plastic top. Louis saw the headlights of a black Audi Q5 flicker. His feet slowed to a halt, his lips still sucking on his straw, his head slowly tilting to the side. He watched Harry round the luxury SUV and open the boot to toss his gym bag inside. Harry's head popped around the side of the car.

“What are you doing?” he asked, chuckling.

Louis slurped his drink and walked towards the vehicle, waiting at the passenger side. Harry unlocked it and he opened the door. The light leather interior looked practically brand new, the sound system gleaming and the dash a dark walnut.

He stepped up to get in the car and shut the door, his gym bag on his lap. Harry slid into the driver's seat and the car hummed to life, the dash lighting up and soft music already playing. He flicked through his iPhone for a minute. Arctic Monkeys started to purr through the speakers. 

“Such a good album,” Louis said, holding his smoothie cup on top of his bag.

“Mmhmm. Do you want me to put that in the back?”

“Hm?”

“Your bag,” Harry said, pointing at his lap. “I can put it in the back.” 

“No, I'm alright, thanks,” Louis said, shifting to sit on his foot. He buckled himself in and rolled his head on the plush seat, smirking at Harry. “Nice little ride you've got here.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, his voice softer, a bashful smile stretching across his face. “My stepfather bought it, then didn't like it, and my mum nearly killed him when he said he'd just buy another. So I said I'd buy it from him. I needed a bigger car for deliveries anyway.”

“He didn't like it?”

“He said it was too boxy.”

Louis' eyes did a big, dramatic circle around the car before landing on Harry's face.

“I don't want to stroke your ego too much, but I don't think I've ever been in a sexier car.”

Harry laughed and looked down, noting that Louis had already slipped his shoes off, his black Toms hidden under the dashboard. 

“My sister likes to call it my Pussy Wagon.”

Louis squinted at him and sipped his drink. His lips popped off with a bright smack.

“Is she aware you prefer a different set of reproductive organs?” 

“Of course. She's known from the beginning.” Harry licked a drip of red off his top lip and smiled across at Louis. “I think she just likes saying Pussy Wagon in front of my mum. Drives her nuts.”

Louis laughed loudly and Harry smiled wider, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Louis slurped the remnants of his smoothie, Harry's mouth sucking the last of his drink down. They both put their empty cups in the cupholders in the center console.

Harry put the car in drive and checked over his shoulder. He pulled away from the curb. They drove in silence for one entire song (Do I Wanna Know?) and were halfway through another (Fireside) before Louis spoke.

“You wanted to tell me something?”

“Oh, yeah,” Harry signaled and turned right, “it's not a big thing.” He paused at a stop. “At least, I hope it won't be.” He hit the gas again, the car vibrating beneath them. “I just...I...”

Harry tried to keep his eyes on the road and his speed consistent while Louis' nose ran up and down his neck.

“You smell so good,” Louis whispered, his hand sliding over the console to squeeze his thigh. He sucked a kiss to the tendon of his neck. “I guess I kind of like you sweaty, too.”

“I,” Harry said, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and blinked out the windshield. Louis had relaxed back into his seat, but his hand moved closer to the center of Harry's body. Louis palmed him through his skinnies. “I just...Wanted to let you know...”

Louis giggled softly in his ear, the sound making Harry twitch against his hand.

“Fuck,” Harry said deeply, holding the word long enough to switch lanes. “I just wanted to let you know that I—I--”

He moaned and arched his back, the car speeding up for a second. Harry gulped and eased his foot on the gas, Louis' fingers popping the button of his jeans open.

“Lou,” he willed his voice to be even, “if you go down on me, I'm gonna crash the car.”

“We can't have that happening, can we?”

Louis slipped his hand down his pants, his body still facing forward. To any passing driver, it would look simply like two men sitting in a moving vehicle. 

“Tell me what you were going to say.” He licked his palm and replaced it around Harry's cock. He gave him a slow, firm stroke, squeezing his head on each jerk of his hand. “Spit it out already.”

“Lemme just--” Harry rapidly tapped his palms against the steering wheel. His eyes widened out the windshield. “We're almost at your place.” 

He raced down the remaining block to Louis' building, his tires practically leaving lines of fire on the street.

The car skidded to a halt and Harry's arm jerked over the clutch, throwing the car into Park. He turned the car off, but kept the music on, and relaxed in the seat, watching Louis' hand speed up over his cock. He licked his lips, groaning on every upstroke.

“Fuck yes,” he whispered, his chest panting. He thrust up to meet Louis' strokes, his stomach tightening and his hands gripping the steering wheel. “Fuck, Louis, I—I—I--” 

Blood rushed to his head and his body tightened, a dull roaring sound growing in his ears until he was on the cusp of--

He moaned, “I know Liam and Zayn,” and gripped his own hair, his mouth twitching open and his eyes shut. “Fuck,” he shivered, “so close.”

Louis' hand never missed a beat, but he turned in his seat to face him.

“What?” he laughed, moving his face into Harry's line of vision. “What do you mean?”

“I—I--”

Louis slowed his strokes, his fingers closing around the base of Harry's cock. Harry's eyes lulled half open, his smoothie-reddened lips panting hot breaths into the car.

“Why are you doing that?” he rasped, swallowing his next moan. His throat bobbed, the front of his neck glistening with fresh sweat. “Don't—Why-Why-Why are you doing that?”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Louis asked, almost casually, his fingers barely touching Harry's cock for a slow stroke. He quirked an eyebrow and squeezed his fingers tighter. “Why, Harry?” The sudden hard note of his voice only made Harry throb harder in his fist and squirm in his seat. “And don't use your boyish voice on me or else I'll surgically remove these bad boys.”

Louis squeezed his balls hard, Harry grunting and lifting his hips, his eyes shutting fully.

“I wonder if they'll be as sensitive as they are attached to your body when they're in a jar on my windowsill?”

Harry laughed despite the tight hold and squirmed again, the seatbelt digging into his shoulder. 

“I ran into them in the hallway a few times and we-we,” he caught his breath, “started talking. It was natural.” Harry ground against his hand, Louis' jaw dropping. Harry giggled, “This bossy thing is turning me on, so you'd better try something else.”

His hand started to stroke again, slow and steady, Harry breathing out a relieved moan.

“Natural?”

“They knew who I was. Tall.” Harry licked his lips. “Green eyes.”

Louis' eyes narrowed, his own words echoed back through Harry's wet lips. 

“I know you're private, and I didn't tell them how I know you. Just that we know each other, which they already knew. And then Zayn asked for my number to exchange CDs, and I thought they were trying to set up a three way, but it was just a misunderstanding.”

Despite his best efforts to remain stern, Louis' lips spread into a smile, Harry's words tumbling out of his mouth at the same speed as his stroking hand. He jerked him faster, his free hand lacing in Harry's hair. The song changed to Arabella, sweat dripping down Harry's temples.

“And then I texted them about drinks on my birthday, because they seemed really cool. I thought that, maybe one day if you introduced me to them, we would get along. Which we did. Get along, I mean.” He sucked a breath in, his voice tightening, his head lolling in Louis' direction. “I just wanted to be polite. And they came for a few drinks at Chandelier. And it was really nice to meet them and--” He moaned softly, rubbing his head against Louis' scratching fingers. “They're great, but I'd rather stop talking about your roommates while you're wanking me off and playing with my hair, if that's alright with you.”

“Why didn't you say anything sooner?”

Harry turned his head on the seat, his stomach trembling under his baggy black tee.

“You're not mad?”

Louis smiled wider at him and softly said, “Nah, not really,” while scratching his scalp.

Harry stiffened, his mouth stuck open, his cock shooting ribbons of come against the bottom of his tee. It dripped down Louis' fist, his hand making a slick clicking sound as he jerked Harry through his orgasm.

“Fuck,” Harry breathed, shuddering and relaxing in his seat. Louis' hand tightened slightly over his tender cock, Harry hissing through his teeth and putting his hand on Louis' wrist. “Please,” he shuddered, a smaller shiver running up his spine, “s'gonna hurt.”

Louis removed his hand, his fingers playing in the come splattered along the bottom of his shirt. He watched Harry's cock soften just a bit, his foreskin inching down his shaft.

“Keep talking.”

Harry's voice was wrecked but back to its normal slow drawl. 

“I took a picture of the three of us at Chandelier and was going to text it to you, but...” He smiled and shook his head. “Nevermind.”

“Aw, c'mon! I want to know!”

Harry laughed, “I'm not throwing Liam and Zayn under the bus,” still shaking his head.

“What could they possibly have said?”

“They just wanted to be, I dunno, playful about it. I think they liked having a little secret from you.”

Louis rolled his eyes.

“Let me guess, they wanted to see my face when they told me the truth?”

Harry said nothing, but his smile grew. He held up his fingers as if he was holding a key and locked his lips, throwing the imaginary key over his shoulder. Louis sighed, fingers drawing small circles in Harry's cooling come on his stomach.

“Those bloody troublemakers,” Louis said, Harry chuckling softly then coughing.

“I thought you knew already and didn't even think to mention it. I froze when you asked how I knew what Liam looked like, because I was honestly shitfaced at Chandelier and I had trouble remembering if I'd sent you the photo or not. It wasn't my brightest moment.”

Louis sighed and thumbed Harry's navel.

“I believe you. That sounds very them. Mischievous lads they are.”

“They seem like a lovely guys.”

Louis laughed, tickling Harry's stomach with a few tiny prods. Harry giggled and moved his hips as best he could.

“Seriously, though, I'm sorry for this misunderstanding,” Harry said, still giggling every few words. He held both of Louis' wrists in his hands. “I would have told you much sooner.”

“Was my face as amusing as you thought it would be? Now that I know the truth.”

Harry's smiled went lopsided, his eyes regaining their normal glow.

“Kind of.”

He threw his head back and laughed, Louis squeezing his hips hard.

“Hey!” He arched away, but one could only squirm so much when seat belted in. “You waited weeks to tell me that I didn't actually spill my drunk soul to you on the phone!”

Louis' fingers eased up. He pursed his lips forward, his nose wrinkled.

“You're actually right. That was a bit sneaky of me.”

Harry's stomach heaved under his palm, his cheeks flushed and his hair wild. His smile grew wider.

“It's okay.”

Louis rubbed his stomach easily. He wiped his hand over Harry's groin, pulling his black boxer briefs up and tucking his cock inside.

“I guess you think we're about even now.”

Harry shrugged his shoulder, Louis nudging his nose against the fabric.

“I'm really sorry.” He unbuckled his seat belt and turned towards Louis. His voice dropped. “Like, truly sorry, if this upset you. I didn't mean to.”

“I know. You've got honest eyes.”

Harry smiled at him, their noses almost touching. 

“You can still punish me, if you'd like.”

“Yeah? Would you like that?”

Louis bit his bottom lip and tilted his head. He watched Harry's eyes drop to follow the motion, his tongue darting out over the corner of his mouth. 

“Yeah,” Harry breathed, nodding and leaning across the console. His mouth smelled like sweet berries. “I think I would.”

Louis' words whispered over his chin, “Close your eyes,” his hand lightly touching Harry's cheekbone.

Harry's eyes fell shut without question, his lips pursing forward, his heartbeat spiking. He could smell Louis' skin, the smell of him hot and a bit sharper than usual in the close quarters of his car. He could hear I Wanna Be Yours pouring through the speakers of his car and he leaned closer, closer, closer until something sticky and hard and definitely not lip shaped gently pushed against his mouth.

“There you are,” Louis said, smiling wide at Harry. He ruffled the front of his hair, the last remnants of his come catching in his fringe. His fringe stood up straight against his headband after Louis' removed his fingers. He smoothed his hand over Harry's cheek. “There's your punishment.” 

Harry's jaw dropped, slick and salty come smeared all over his mouth. Louis pecked his nose and got out of the car, his gym bag in one hand and his shoes dangling from his fingers.

“Now we're even.” He gripped the door handle, giggling and putting his shoes on, “Thanks for the lift.” 

Harry opened the passenger's side window and shouted, “You drive me crazy,” at Louis' back, able to hear Louis laughing before he waved over his shoulder, jogging up the steps.

. . .

Louis yawned and worked shampoo through his hair, itching the pads of his fingers over his scalp. He dropped his head forward and let the hot water race down his back. Soap suds swirled down the drain. His toes stroked lines of suds along the floor. The bathroom door creaked open as he tried to draw a flower, the sound of bare feet padding on the warm tile nearly drowned out by the pounding water.

He heard the shower door open and close behind him.

“I must be pretty good if you get knocked out after every time.”

Harry's arms wrapped around his waist.

“I also woke up at four in the morning today, so don't flatter yourself too much.”

Louis smiled and lifted his hand up to lace in Harry's hair. He let his head lean to the side, Harry's face nuzzling against his neck.

“No music today?” Harry asked, palm sliding down Louis' wet stomach. He thumbed his belly button, fanning his fingers on the soaked dark hair of his groin. “No shower playlist?”

“Nah. Didn't want to wake you.”

Harry kissed down his shoulders, lips dragging over the bumps of his spine.

“How thoughtful of you.” 

Louis looked over his shoulder.

“What are you doing down there?”

Harry's eyes squinted up at him, his lashes weighed down by shower water.

“I've had this craving for come on my mouth lately.”

“Hmm, interesting,” Louis said, smirking. 

“Yeah.” Harry shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. He held Louis' hips and gently spun him, his knees on the tile. “No idea where that came from.” He held up a bottle of conditioner, Louis grinning and taking it from him. “While I'm down here, I might as well be helpful.”

“Such a helper bee, you are,” Louis said, Harry's lips sucking him into his mouth.

. . .

Louis opened a long, light wood cabinet and pushed a few boxes of products aside. Gleaming gold bottles of women's perfume, a few boxes of expensive round hairbrushes, and stacks of Adidas tees were all stacked inside. He shut the cabinet and knelt down, opening a long drawer that ran along the floor. This one held a collection of flat brim baseball caps, trainers too small for any male in the office, and iPhone 4 sized cases.

He stood up and put his hands on his hips, spinning around the empty conference room. He checked his watch and walked out of the room, crossing the office to the other large conference room. He noticed a small group of people still sitting in there and stopped, checking his watch again. Usually, the room was free after five. Today must be an exception. 

He turned to head back to his office when he heard movement in the room. Employees stood from their chairs, packing up sketches and laptops. Simon stood and stretched his arms over his head, still speaking to his assistant throughout his half-minute of stretching.

Louis held the glass door open for the first wave of people coming out, receiving smiles and words of thanks. 

“Hey,” Zayn said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to check the cabinets for something.”

“I see.” He glanced down at his iPhone and smiled, then looked back to Louis. “You coming home soon?”

“Yeah, hopefully, just need to grab something. I'll see you there.”

“Cool.”

Zayn tugged the bottom of Louis' navy blue button up shirt and winked, walking past him. Louis entered the conference room.

“Louis,” Simon said, now stretching one leg along the top of the long wood table. His assistant stood obediently as his side. “Alright?”

“Yeah, alright, thanks. Just wanted to check for something in the community cabinet.”

“Have at it,” Simon said, holding his hands out while deepening his stretch, his assistant pushing on his shoulders to help.

Louis gave him a small smile and nodded.

“Cheers.”

He walked towards the front of the room, eyes zoning in on the collection of pale wooden cabinets underneath the projection screen.

“Louis?”

He looked up and blinked, Thor's face projected on the wall.

“Hi,” he said as a reflex, backing up a few steps. “Didn't see you there.”

Thor smiled and laughed, the deep, hearty sound practically shaking the conference room. Louis put his hands in his pockets.

“How are you?” Thor asked.

“I'm good, yeah. Thanks.” Louis heard whispering and cleared his throat. He peeked over his shoulder and pressed his lips together. The entire conference room had simply emptied into the hallway, all standing near the open door with Simon at the front of the pack. He looked to Thor. “And you?”

“Good, yeah, excellent. Uh.” He tucked a longer piece of blond hair behind his ear. “Could I talk to you alone for a minute? Really quick.”

Louis turned around and glanced at Simon, who lifted his hands and clapped once.

“Let's give them the room, yes?”

The other employees walked away from the conference room and the door shut quietly. The employees being beamed in from Chicago also moved around behind Thor until his conference room was empty. 

Louis backed up a few more steps. He stood at the very end of the conference table, as far from the screen as he could be. Thor shifted around on the screen, smoothing his hands over his green sweater vest. Louis spun a desk chair with a gentle prod, smiling up at the large screen.

“So, what's up?”

Thor took a deep breath. He stared at Louis for a long moment.

“I'm sorry I missed our Skype time,” he blurted out. “And that I haven't called or emailed you back. My email the other day was so bland and just...Not good enough. I'm not avoiding you, I promise, I just...I didn't know what to say.”

Louis stepped closer to the screen, spinning chairs as he went.

“It's alright, Ev, it's alright.” He shrugged and put his hands in his pockets, moving closer to the screen. “You're going through a huge change with the move and all. I'm sure work is as busy there as it is here, and moving is so stressful. You're under a lot of stress.”

Thor smiled and ran both hands through his hair.

“You're making excuses for me.”

“Maybe I am. But I also know that you've been under a lot of stress. You don't do well with that much stress.”

“Yeah, but...” Thor lifted a pair of thick black glasses from out of the screen's shot and slid them up his nose. “I was a bad friend these past couple of months. You deserve better. You deserve so much better, whether I'm stressed or not.”

“I...”

Louis gripped the top of a chair, halting the orbit he himself had caused with his nervous fingers. A new friend he'd made in Thor's absence danced to the front of his brain, smelling of shower water and sugar cookies and fresh sweat.

“You look really good, Louis. Happy.”

Louis smiled at the floor. The dancing figure in his head started to twerk, and he had to bite the sides of his tongue not to laugh aloud.

“I am happy,” he said, looking up at Evan's warm gaze. He nodded and looped his thumbs in his belt. “I'm very happy, actually.”

“Good. I'm glad to hear it.”

Louis swallowed and pressed his lips together, rolling up on the balls of his feet. The silence ticked onwards, all desk chairs now completely still.

“Evan, I need to clear something up. That's why I've been trying to get in touch with you.”

Thor's face relaxed, a sigh of relief leaving his lips.

“Yes, I know. I need to, as well. It wasn't right for me to dump all that emotional mushy stuff on you and then conveniently leave the country.”

“Yes. Exactly. Because...I just need to know where we stand. I'm feeling a bit...” He squinted at the screen. “Stunted? Maybe? I'm not sure if that's the word for it.” 

“I understand. And I think you're absolutely right in saying you feel stunted. That's how I've been feeling, too.”

“So.” Louis breathed in and crossed his arms over his chest. “Two stunted men. One ocean. What to do?”

“I just...” Thor took his glasses off and sighed, smiling sadly at his hands. “I just think that I was drunk, and you're someone I've always been so fond of. I've always had a thing for you, but we were such good friends that I just thought it was...You know. Friendship. Then I realized I wouldn't get to see you every day. I wouldn't get to share a hotel room with you when we have to travel for work and we wouldn't get to swap lunches when we were feeling bored.”

“You always had terrible taste in sandwiches.”

Thor smiled, snuffling a breathy laugh out of his nose.

“I was nervous about the move. Nervous to leave. Nervous to go someplace where I had no friends, and you were my greatest friend at Simone. So in my drunk, gin soaked mind, I think I thought it'd be a good idea to try and hold on to you.”

Louis nodded along with his explanation. He didn't feel the sharp sting he anticipated for this conversation, more like a dull, annoying twinge under the first layer of his skin.

“You know that I was horrible when I was in a long distance relationship.”

“Ah, yes. Milo.”

“Yes, Milo.” Thor shook his head. “See, even with that. You remembered his name. You remembered.”

Louis knocked his fist on top of his skull.

“Like a vault.”

“So, you understand that I care for you. I care for you more than most people.” His soft, deep voice settled into Louis' ears, the ocean between them shrinking by the second. “I just...I just think it was not the right time for us when I was there, and now I'm not there, but I don't think it's the right time either.”

That comment, for some reason, stung. That comment made the ocean double in size and triple in depth. That comment made Louis' lips snarl for a beat, his face directed at the ground. 

It was not pain of rejection, more of disappointment. He hated people who gave up easily. And he knew that he was not someone to be passed up, to be given up on due to a few pesky kilometers.

He put on a smile and brought his face up.

“I understand.”

“You look pissed.”

Louis laughed and rubbed his hands over his face.

“I'm not, I swear. You'd know if I was. I'm just...” He shook his head, holding his palms towards Thor. “I'm not pissed. I'm not sure how to describe what I'm feeling.”

“You think I'm a pussy.”

Both men laughed, Louis' fingers itching the top of his head.

“No, not really. I think I just feel...A weird sort of relief. I'm glad that we're good. That we're still friends.”

“Of course we are!”

“I know, I just meant...I'm glad we know where we stand now.”

“Yes.” Thor nodded seriously. “We are friends. Great friends. If you ever want to come visit Chicago, you will have a luxurious guest room to yourself and all the pizza you can eat for your entire stay.”

“And when you come back to London, I will buy you all the non-alcoholic drinks you can handle and take you shopping for new glasses, because that look is just not doing it for you.”

Thor's neck stretched when he threw his head back to laugh.

“God, I missed that. Someone to call me on my shit.” He lowered his voice to whisper. “Everyone here thinks I'm so charming.”

“Oh, they'll see the light soon enough,” Louis said, giggling. “That posh accent can only go so far.”

“What prompted this?”

“Come again?”

“Like,” Thor sat back in his desk chair, crossing his leg, “you wanted to get to the bottom of it. Us. What's prompting it?”

Louis smiled up at the screen. 

“What makes you think there's something that prompted it? I'm a naturally curious creature.”

“You're so full of shit,” Thor laughed. “C'mon, spill.”

Louis licked his lips and sucked air in through his clenched teeth.

“I sort of met...” He screwed his face up, Thor's smile growing. “This person. This guy. Right after you left.” Louis' face softened, a small smile stretching his lips. “Almost sort of due to you leaving, but that's a long story.”

“I'd love to hear it.”

“Maybe when we're not being recorded by the company and Simon is likely watching this entire conversation on his iPad while in a limo on the way to the airport.”

Louis could have sworn he heard Simon's loud laugh ring from someplace in the office. Thor laughed as well.

“True. Another time, then.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you two,” Thor wiggled his eyebrows and shimmied his bulky shoulders, “you know.”

“Oh my God,” Louis said on a laugh, his cheeks heating and his body swaying forward. “I can't with you doing that right now. You're the size of the wall!”

Thor yawned and flexed both of his arms.

“I have been working out more.”

Louis was still laughing to say, “He's just really, really...” His laughter quieted, his eyes still bright and his mouth smiling easily. The twerking figure stopped dancing to walk towards his mind's eye, a wide smile on his face and his hair a curled disaster. “He's someone who will only come around once. He's special in a way that I didn't really...Think was real? If that makes sense?”

“It does.”

“He's good to me and I think he could maybe like me someday, like really like me, but what do I know about--”

“Of course he would like you,” Evan said, chuckling deeply. His piercing eyes held Louis' gaze. “Why wouldn't he? Are you crazy? You're you. Of course he'd like you. If he didn't I'd be concerned about his mental wellbeing.”

“I just mean that he's not...He's not someone to pass up, you know? I feel like I've been holding part of myself back, because I wasn't sure about you and I. I just couldn't get in past the surface with him, because it wouldn't be fair to him. It would be insane for me not to...To...”

“So do it,” Evan said, nodding and standing. He nodded even faster. Louis felt like he was about to take off in a whirl of cosmic energy. He had an iPhone in his hand, but he looked like he should be holding an enormous metal hammer. “Louis, I...Since I got to Chicago, I've been...Not dating, but...I kind of met someone, too. But I was holding back because I felt like it was terrible of me to leave you the way I did.”

Louis' eyes brightened.

“Oh, cool! I mean, not the feeling terrible. But the meeting someone thing. That's great!”

“He's my neighbor,” Thor said, wrapping an arm around his stomach. “And he's kind of...He reminds me a little of you. He makes me laugh.”

“Aww,” Louis said, holding the sound out and grinning, his hands in his pockets. “We may be communicating through the magic of the internet, but you are definitely blushing.”

“Shut up.”

Louis held his hand in the air and touched his fingers together.

“You feel that? I'm pinching your cheek right now.”

Thor laughed and the conference room vibrated, Louis smiling at his friend.

He ended their call a short while later and shut the conference room down. He went to his office to gather his things and checked his computer for last minute emails. He scanned a few subject lines, shrugging one sleeve of his jacket on. His eyes widened at the email on the top of his mailbox, his motions slowing.

“What the fuck,” he whispered, sinking into his chair. 

He opened an email from Rolex and scrolled through the message, his blood pressure shooting up. It wasn't an emergency, but they were definitely asking for files that their team had planned on sending out in a couple of days.

Louis compiled a few samples and composed a reply, assuring them that they would be hearing from Simone by the end of the week. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, reading a text from Zayn.

**everything ok babes?**

_held up. rolex...will be home soon_

**want me to come back?**

_noooo. all good, took care of it_

Louis shut his office down and went to the restroom, pinching the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache building behind his eyes. Whether it was due to the sudden Rolex stress or the ups and downs of his Thor conversation, he would never know. 

He took a small pouch out of his work bag and took out his contact case. He washed his hands and popped his contacts out of his eyes, sliding his glasses up his nose. He checked his face in the mirror, pushing his hair up and adjusting his glasses. Maybe he himself needed to go glasses shopping in the near future.

He left his headphones out for his commute home and nearly nodded off on the train. He stopped by a small market near his flat to get ice cream and beer. His headache kept building while he waited in line, his neck twinging with tightness.

He trudged up the steps to his flat, able to hear voices from inside his flat with the door shut. He unlocked the door and stepped inside. He paused in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?"

Harry looked up from the kitchen table and replied, "You wear glasses?" 

Louis touched the bridge of his glasses. 

"Yeah, sometimes, if I don't feel like dealing with my contacts."

Harry's eyes scanned Louis' face, a smile ghosting his lips.

"They look good.” He sipped a bottle of beer, licking his lips afterward. His eyes dropped mere inches before returning to his face. His smiled grew. “Nice scarf, too.”

Louis flushed and took his glasses off, looping one of the arms in the vee of his collared shirt. He placed his work bag on the floor, unlooping the soft charcoal scarf from around his neck. He hung both on a coat rack near the front door. He walked to the refrigerator and popped his ice cream inside the freezer, putting his beer on the bottom shelf of the fridge.

Zayn came out of Liam's room, his arms full of plastic cases.

“Hey!”

“Hi,” Louis said, shutting the door. “What's going on?”

"We're exchanging CDs, duh," he said, plopping on a chair across from Harry. 

He sipped a beer, spreading the shiny square cases over the table, Harry's throat bobbing while he sipped his own. Louis took in the scene then burst out laughing, Harry and Zayn looking at him confusedly.

"Wait, you're--” He pointed two fingers at them, criss-crossing them. “You're seriously exchanging CDs?"

"Sure, why not?" Harry asked.

"Um, because that was the code I used for Liam to sit here when you came over and I sucked you off via Craigslist?"

Harry's cheeks went red but he grinned, Zayn making a puking sound and dry heaving onto his pile of CDs.

"Please. This is an innocent exchange of tunes, not bodily fluids."

Louis toed his black dress shoes off and bent over, swiping them up with one hand. He looped around the table to pick up his work bag. He padded barefoot into his bedroom, Harry and Zayn chatting happily while sliding cases around the table. There was a knock at the door.

"Ah, that's Niall," Harry's voice said in the distance. A chair slid across the wooden floor before Zayn said, "Hey, man, welcome," to whoever came in the door. “Good to see you again.”

“Hi, handsome!”

Apparently Niall was Irish and liked giving loud kisses, and likely had met Liam and Zayn at the birthday drinks. How were all of these people who did not currently reside at his flat holding a music party in his kitchen? And where was Liam?

"Liam just texted me," Harry said, more chairs sliding across the kitchen floor. "Pizza good?"

Zayn and Niall replied with an enthusiastic, "Yeah!"

Liam and Harry text about pizza now?

Louis pulled his work shirt off and tossed it in his laundry hamper. He pressed the ball of his right foot into the floor and stretched his ankle forward, switching feet and stretching his left ankle. He rubbed his hands over his face, rolling his neck side to side, then lifted his arms and wrapped them over the top of his head. Maybe he should get a shower in before attempting dinner. His body was unusually sweaty from work.

"Hey."

He spun around, his hands still wrapped over his head. Harry snorted a laugh, leaning on his doorframe.

"Yes?" Louis asked.

"Liam's bringing in pizza. What do you like on yours? I like those trousers, by the way."

Louis looked down to remember what he was wearing. Tight charcoal skinnies that Zayn dubbed Meggings (Male Leggings).

"Whatever everyone else is getting, I'll just have that."

Harry crossed his arms over his chest, his ankles crossing down below.

"You don't have a preferred pizza topping? I find that hard to believe."

Louis turned away from him and opened his chest of drawers. He pulled a white and navy blue striped tee on, flecks of heat racing up his bare stomach and sides.

"Why do you care?"

"Are you alright?"

Harry's voice was soft, closer than Louis had anticipated. The flecks of heat blanketed him, as if Harry had superhuman sized hands that could touch from a mile away. What superhero would Harry be, if Evan was Thor? Harry didn't have the bone structure of Superman and he was broader than Spiderman. He had the heart of The Hulk and the resourcefulness of Batman. 

“Lou?”

He unbuckled his black belt and let it fall to the floor. He smiled at Harry and shimmied his tight trousers off his hips. Harry's eyes followed the motions of his body, his hand reaching backwards to push Louis' door almost shut. He kicked them to the side and reached into his chest of drawers, pulling out a pair of worn red sweats.

"Fine. I'm fine."

"Long day? Zayn said you had to stay late for some conference call."

"Eh," Louis shrugged, hopping into his sweats. "Just stressful. And long, yeah. And weird.” He tilted his head. “But also," his voice went up in pitch, “good at the end? Kind of? But I have a headache.”

Harry's lips pursed, his brows twitching together.

"I see."

"Oi," Zayn hollered from the kitchen. "Are we exchanging CDs or what? I want your Weird Al CD."

Harry's concerned eyes shimmered to momentary amusement, his gaze never leaving Louis' face. He pushed the door open and said over his shoulder, "Hands off until I'm back."

Louis smiled softly, the twinges in his neck unfurling under invisible massaging hands. He stepped closer.

"You own a Weird Al CD?"

Harry laughed and rubbed his hand over his neck.

"We all have our secrets."

“Spinach.”

“Come again?”

“Spinach. I like spinach on my pizza.”

“Oh.” The wrinkles on Harry's forehead dissolved. He grinned, bright and excited. His eyes followed Louis as he strolled towards him. “Cool. That's good to know.”

“Yup. Lots of spinach.” He stood in front of Harry, their chests nearly brushing. “Lots of spinach all up in this,” Louis grit his teeth and slowly waved his palm in a circle in front of his mouth, “and garlic. Spinach and garlic all in my teeth. Still wanna, you know.” He pursed his lips forward in an air kiss, Harry smiling, his eyes shining on the brink of giggles. “You wanna suck the spinach out of my teeth?”

“I'd still give you a snog, yeah.”

Louis gently shoved his chest and laughed.

“You lie. Oh!” He pulled Harry's body back to himself by his belt and their foreheads bumped together, Harry snuffling into his hair. “I have something for you.”

“For me?”

“Mmhmm.”

Louis bent over and grabbed his work bag. He opened it on his bed and started to search through it.

“Ah. Here we are.”

He turned to Harry with a white cloth bag in his hand. Harry's confusion only grew. Louis opened the drawstring fastening the top and handed it to Harry. Harry peered inside, pulling out a sleek clear plastic bottle.

Louis had to dig his toes into the ground not to audibly swoon at Harry's confused, but polite, “Oh, wow, thanks so much!”

“They're scent free products,” Louis said, pulling another bottle out of the bag. Realization lit Harry's face, his teeth flashing in a sudden, ecstatic smile. “Shampoo, conditioner, body wash. I think they even have an organic cleanser and moisturizer in there, too.”

Harry gaped at the bounty in his hands, then looked at Louis and laughed.

“What is this for?”

“It's for you,” Louis said, ruffling his hair. Harry took each bottle out of the bag, his eyes growing excited with each one, as if he didn't already know more products were inside. “I completely forgot we did a campaign for this company a while back and they sent all these samples over for us. These bags have been sitting in one of our conference rooms ever since, so I figured I'd grab one for you. You can keep them here, if you want. I don't want your skin to get irritated every time you take a shower here. Hopefully they're good and won't make you smell like a stinky tree or--”

Harry tackled him to the bed, Louis giggling and letting Harry's body spread out on top of him.

“Thank you,” he kissed his jawline, “so,” he kissed down his neck, “so much.”

“No problem.”

“That was so thoughtful of you.”

Louis shrugged one shoulder, Harry leaning back to look him in the eye. 

“I was listening to a lot of Beyonce today and it made me think of being in the shower, so...” He trailed off and smiled at Harry's rapt gaze. He could practically see the movie playing in Harry's head of them dancing to _Drunk In Love_ in the shower, complete with Louis doing the actual Beyonce moves. “I guess you were kind of in those visions.”

“Was I dancing?”

“Of course.”

Harry stroked his hair lightly.

“Do you still have a headache?”

Louis hummed and squinted at him.

“No, not really.”

Harry smiled.

“Good.”

“I definitely smell, though.”

Harry sniffed his neck, dragging his nose to under his ear.

“Not really.”

“No, I do. You can say it.”

“I've smelled you after hot yoga while sitting in a vehicle. This is minor.”

Louis shoved him off, both giggling, Harry's legs tangled in his. Harry landed on his back, his hands tucked behind his head. Louis smiled down at him, his eyes studying the rise and fall of his chest underneath his loose grey button down. He reached out and touched the vee of his chest.

“Showing a lot of cleavage today.”

Harry chuckled softly, Louis' fingers unbuttoning another two buttons. Harry's eyebrows rose, eyes checking the cracked bedroom door.

“I'm being so moody,” Louis murmured.

“Eh,” Harry said, shrugging. “You had a weird day?”

“Just ups and downs.” He smoothed his palm over the top of Harry's stomach. “Weirdness.”

“Like what?”

“Just a lot of deadlines that jumped earlier than my team thought. That was stressful, but manageable in the long run. And then...The conference call at the end of the day.” His eyes moved from Harry's navel up to the dip of his throat. He glanced at his face. “With our Chicago office.”

Harry nodded, his eyes focusing on Louis' face.

“I see,” he said, his voice deep and quiet.

“Mmhmm.”

“And...That was the weirdness?”

“Kind of? Not so much weirdness. Just...It was okay.” He toyed with a button. “Talked with an old friend.”

Harry's lips formed the word _Thor_ but didn't make it past the rounding of his lips and touching of his tongue to his top teeth for the _Th_. He swallowed and nodded again. 

“A friend?”

“Yeah, it was good to talk with him.” Their eyes met, Harry's round and Louis' more feline. “We were good friends when he was in London, and we're working on being friends now. Just friends, nothing more.”

Harry's nostrils flared, his biceps bulging underneath the sleeves of his tight shirt.

“Just friends?” he asked, the deepness of his voice not nearly as useful at masking his curiosity.

Louis smiled and nodded and something inside Harry felt like a key unlocking a massive door.

“Yeah. Just friends. That's all we both want to be.”

“Oh. That's...” Harry's eyes searched his face, his brain searching for a word. “Good.”

“Yeah,” Louis said on a soft giggle, smoothing his hand up the center of Harry's chest. His fingers curled on the warm, bare skin of his neck. They could hear the faint sound of chatter in the kitchen, the television bleeding into Louis' bedroom. “It's good.”

Harry's teeth appeared, his lips curving in an uncontrollable smile.

“Good to know.”

“Mmhmm.”

His hand cupped Harry's jaw, fingers stroking the hair above his ear. Harry just stared at him, his smile softening, his leg linking between Louis'. Harry's jeans felt rough against his ankle, but it wasn't unpleasant.

Louis leaned closer and pressed a kiss to the corner of Harry's smiling lips. A fraction of contact with a fraction of Harry's lips made Louis exhale out of his nose, his insides shivering, his chest swelling with nearly unbearable warmth.

When he pulled back, Harry's eyes were wide, his lips pursed forward, his arms still bent behind his head. Louis giggled breathily and went to roll away, but Harry's arm wrapped around his waist. Harry pecked just beside his lips, softly kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Soft lips,” Harry stated on a whisper, air licking over Louis' mouth.

Louis inhaled and let Harry's hands move his face to the side, Harry's leg pinning his hips to the bed. Harry thumbed his bottom lip, smiling shakily and leaning down.

“It sounds awfully quiet in there, gents! Do you need a chaperone?”

Louis looked towards the footsteps approaching his open bedroom door, Harry's lips brushing his chin. 

“For God's sake,” Harry groaned on a laugh, burying his face in Louis' neck. “Of all the fucking timing.”

Louis smiled into Harry's hair, venturing, “That Niall?”

“Yes,” Harry said, practically whimpering.

Louis sat up and patted Harry's arse with both hands, Harry pressing his face into a pillow.

“Up and at 'em.” Louis squeezed his cheeks firmly, jostling him on the bed. “Not like we were doing anything important.”

Harry flipped onto his back and threw a pillow at him. Louis threw the pillow back at him and jumped on the bed. He jumped between Harry's legs, bouncing from side to side.

“Get up, get up, get up!”

“Alright, alright,” Harry laughed, dodging Louis' feet as he jumped all over the bed. Louis belly flopped on top of Harry's torso, Harry laughing harder and attempting to roll off the bed. “I'm up!”

Louis rolled on top of him to get off the bed, Harry's fingers prodding his sides.

“Ah!” He let out a strand of bubbly giggles and struggled out of Harry's grasp. “Sneaky!”

Harry smiled at him as he got off the bed, which now looked as if a bomb went off. He followed Louis out of the bedroom and down the hallway, buttoning his shirt up.

They were greeted by a loud, “You must be the famous Louis!”

Louis smiled and held his hand out.

“Hi. You must be Niall.” Their hands clasped firmly. “Nice to meet you.”

Niall raised Louis from handshake to hug, pulling him into his body. He felt like he was being hugged by a jolly golden retriever, Niall's bright blond hair all he could see.

“That I am. So lovely to meet you finally.” He patted Louis' back. “Our Harold can be a bit secretive.” 

“Harold can be secretive?” Zayn said in passing, handing Harry a beer. He fluttered his eyelashes at Louis. “No wonder you two get along so well.”

Louis rolled his eyes, but was smiling into Niall's shoulder.

Niall pulled back and grinned at Louis, his enthusiasm furthering Louis' golden retriever theory. He patted both of his shoulders.

“Thanks for coming over the other night. Harry broke out the culinary big guns and I got a lovely plate of gourmet when I got in at three.”

Louis raised his eyebrows, peering over Niall's shoulder at Harry and smirking.

“Oh, yeah?”

“I didn't break out the big guns,” Harry said softly, his face flushed sweet pink, his lips twitching into a smile. “I make that meal all the time.”

“Hmm, yeah, okay,” Niall said, winking dramatically.

“Let's get back to the CD exchange, shall we?” Harry said, moving the group back towards the kitchen table. He pointed both fingers at Zayn. “I've got my eye on a few of yours.”

Zayn laughed and walked over to the table, Niall already there and dumping CDs out of a band patch covered rucksack. 

“So, can I have Weird Al? You can have any one of mine in return.”

Niall gasped at Harry, “You put your Weird Al CD in the pot?”

Harry sat down and rubbed his hands together.

“It was time to let that dorky period of my life go.”

Louis strolled around the table to get a beer for himself. 

“Yeah, because you're not still a dork now or anything.”

Harry grinned at Louis' back, Louis' smiling eyes peeking at him over his shoulder.

“Alright, here we go,” Zayn said, pushing his pile towards Harry. He accepted a stack from Niall. “Have at it.”

Harry started sorting through the cases, full lips pursed forward in concentration.

"Are you seriously throwing this away?" Harry flipped a case around twice, his smile only growing. "You can't be serious!"

Zayn glanced at the CD and flicked his hand at it.

"I think I listened to it once. Have at it, man."

It was as if he had offered Harry the key to the universe.

"Thanks! I can't believe you don't love _The Boy Is Mine_. It's a classic R &B track."

Louis took the case from his hands, studying the track list.

"I remember this song," he said, smiling to himself. "Brandy and Monica. My sister and I used to sing it all the time."

"Yes, exactly! I'm embarrassed to reveal just how often my sis and I would act out the parts."

Louis giggled softly, handing the case back to Harry.

"Cute."

Harry's fingers brushed over his hand when he took the case back, his eyes far too heavy for a group hangout in the kitchen. Louis' neck felt hot and he couldn't look away from Harry's stare, Niall and Zayn moving CDs around in his peripheral vision. 

The door opened and five boxes of pizza walked into the flat.

“I come bearing pizza,” Liam said, shutting the door with his bum. He smiled over the very top of the boxes. “Hello, everyone. Wow! We've got a proper crowd tonight.”

“Let's eat in the other room,” Zayn said, taking three of the boxes from him. Niall took the other two. “I want to have space to spread out after eating an entire pizza myself.”

“I'll get plates,” Louis said, turning away from the group. He heard Liam say, “I'll help,” as he opened a cabinet. 

Louis could smell lavender massage lotion before Liam was even next to him. He pulled down five dinner plates. Liam took five fresh beers out of the fridge and placed them on the counter. Louis handed him a bottle opener while he searched for their pizza cutter.

“Good looking, hm?” Liam whispered, a bottle popping over his words.

Louis continued to look, his posture relaxed.

“Yeah, like I said. So what?”

“I think that's a bit of an understatement.”

“I'm going to kill you in your sleep tonight.”

“Oh, really? Hm.” Liam shrugged, unimpressed. “I'll have to lock my door.”

“Yes, really.” Louis shut the junk drawer with his hip and smiled at his flatmate, a pizza cutter balanced between his fingers. “But I'll kill Zayn first, just so you have to watch.” He tilted his wrist and spun the metal wheel with his thumb. “Using this.”

Niall's voice sang, “Whoever picked pepperoni and pineapple is my hero!”

“Come the fuck on,” Zayn said from the living room, already pulling a piece of pizza out of the box. He threw the piece back down and sucked his thumb into his mouth. “Fuck, cheese, hot, hot cheese, fuck.”

“That was sort of like a palindrome,” Harry said, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

“Good looking _and_ smart,” Liam whispered. “Quite a catch.”

“Slow and painful,” Louis said cheerfully, picking up the plates with the pizza cutter on top. “Very slow and very painful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from my favorite Tegan and Sara song, [ Relief Next To Me ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yftgnkdan8%20)
> 
> Come say hello on [ LJ](http://dolce-piccante.livejournal.com) and [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Growing friendships, a holiday, and a couple of challenges. This chapter basically runs into Chapter 12, but it was so many words I broke it up into two posted chapters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay, y'all! Some personal stuff had to take center stage and I've been traveling, so I haven't had a lot of time/consistent internet.
> 
> Translations hopefully available just by holding your mouse over the foreign language bits.
> 
> Thank you SO MUCH to [Jess](whitechimes.tumblr.com) for putting up with my insane emails and dealing with these next two super long chapters.
> 
> Finally, thank you for everyone who commented/kudos/bookmarked! Your kind words have really helped in a tough time, so thank you so much!<333
> 
> Enjoy!

“You and your friends are dangerous to be around.”

Harry smiled, lips tight around his thin black straw and his cheeks hollowed. He swallowed a gulp of vodka soda. 

“Dangerous? Me?” he laughed, the noise barely carrying over the loud music of the club. “Why?”

Louis tilted his head back and downed the remainder of his tequila gimlet. 

“Woo,” he said on a gasp, shaking his head side to side. His eyes went round and wide to blink. He lifted the slice of lime off the rim of his glass and sucked it into his mouth, biting on the tangy rind. He licked the corner of his mouth. “I think Niall's friend made that mostly tequila, not a whole lot of gimlet.”

Harry laughed again and leaned over the bar. He made eye contact with the fair haired bartender named James. James had crashed at his and Niall's flat for a few weeks when he first moved to London from Cork a couple of years ago. He was an excellent mixologist and also a master at leaving no trail of actually living someplace. Harry couldn't remember ever seeing a suitcase in his flat when James lived there.

He held up two fingers and James winked at him, nodding once.

“Every time we come out with you guys I end up really drunk for free,” Louis said, tilting his glass again. He sucked an ice cube into his mouth. “I try to give Niall or the bartender cash, but they never take it.”

Harry leaned back on the bar and spread his arms to his sides, his left hand almost brushing Louis' arm.

“Yeah, Niall's crowd tends to be very generous and very fun. I'm not sure if that a bartender thing, or a musician thing, or just an Irish thing.” Harry felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around. He took two fresh drinks from James, offering a grateful smile in return. “Cheers, mate.” He handed Louis his drink and pressed his back to the bar. “It's a lethal combination.”

“Yes! Lethal!” Louis' lips wrapped around his straw. “His friend Bart was so easy to talk to. He should be a priest or something because he was just like, you know, good at chatting.”

Harry smiled and looked towards their group in (and spilling out of) a nearby booth, Zayn and Liam mixed in with some of Harry and Niall's friends. In addition to their new group text message, which ranged from them offering each other fashion advice to merciless teasing on a daily basis, they had all been spending more time lately as a group.

The weekend previous, Louis and Zayn's Simone crowd had met up with their group at Chandelier, during which Louis drank so much free champagne that he fell asleep on Harry for the cab ride home. Harry didn't mind, and almost paid the cab driver to loop the block a few times, but then Louis snorted awake and accidentally squeezed Harry's cock through his jeans and the moment ended.

“Bart's great. I like Suzi, too. Your friend from Simone. She's a riot.”

Louis' arm made contact with Harry's finger tips. His eyes were drawn away from their friends and to the contact of their skin. He looked up at Louis' face, smoothing the pads of his fingers up his forearm until he reached the rolled cuff of his sleeve. He stroked over the crook of his elbow, the skin even hotter there.

Louis grinned and dropped his face down. His hair flopped with the motion before regaining its styled bounce. He stared at Harry for a beat.

“Bart said you made his nan sugar-free pastries for her birthday because she's diabetic.”

Harry huffed a soft laugh and broke their stare, sipping his drink.

“Bart does like to talk.”

Louis looked at Harry's pointy-toed black boots crossed at the ankles. His gaze traveled up his long legs covered in tight black skinnies and worked their way up to his open black shirt with white polka dots. 

Harry raised a brow and tilted his head to make eye contact. Louis' gaze had started to go soft and sleepy, Harry's lips lips curving into a smile. 

“What?”

“You clean up nice.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, smiling and shifting his hips against the bar. “I figured you've seen me in the shower enough to know how I look clean, but I guess we need to spend more time in the shower.”

Louis giggled while sipping his drink.

“You're, like, dirty clean tonight. Hot clean. Clean and dirty hot.”

“Hot clean? Dirty hot? Lou, I had no idea you were a poet.”

Louis laughed and turned his body to face Harry in time to have a head of long, blonde, perfumed hair pushed into his mouth. He frowned and move his head to the side, Harry smiling confusedly at the woman smushed between them.

“Um, hi,” Harry said, his lips twitching. “How are you doing tonight?”

“I'm Claire,” she said, holding her hand out. Her body swayed towards Harry, her leg attempting to slide between his knees. Harry's confusion turned to mild horror, his eyes going even wider. “You're tall. I like tall.”

Louis mouthed, “She's got nice tits,” nodding at Harry over her shoulder. He held his cupped hands in front of his chest and squeezed the air. 

Harry's lips broke into a grin before he could control it.

“Hi Claire.” He shifted his legs and rested his hip against the bar. “Nice to meet you. I'm Harry,” he tilted his forehead forwards, “and this is my good friend, Louis.”

Claire looked over her shoulder. Her eyes did a quick scan from Louis' feet to his face. He was dressed almost identically to Harry, save for his normal black button-down shirt, no polka dots in sight.

“Hi,” she said, her face tightening as if she sucked a lemon drop. “Charmed, I'm sure.”

“Hi,” Louis said, smiling easily at her. He sipped his drink through the straw. “I like your eyeshadow contouring. Your smoky eye is so well done.”

Her shiny pink lips formed a perfect circle. She looked at Harry, who was sipping his drink with his eyes on Louis.

“Oh,” she looked between them again, “you're both gay?”

Louis and Harry glanced at each other, both smiling.

“Give or take a few incredibly lucky ladies from the past, I am, for the most part,” Louis said, shrugging one shoulder. “Don't know about Harold, here.”

“Yeah, same,” Harry said, both of his shoulders rising towards his ears. He brushed his palm over her bare shoulder. “Sorry, love. You look really pretty, though. I like the colour of your dress.”

She sighed and flicked her hair off her shoulders.

“God damn it. I mean,” she offered them a harried glance, “thanks, I guess. But, fuck.” She blew hair out of her face and straightened the top of her strapless teal mini-dress. “Is every hot guy in here gay?”

“Niall's straight and single,” Louis said, pointing towards their booth of friends. Niall was laughing at something Zayn had said with his arm around Liam's shoulders, Liam's face bright red and definitely not laughing along with them. “Blond fellow with the lovely smile.”

“And he's Irish,” Harry said, holding his hands up by his face. “So, you know,” he widened his eyes and spread his hands about nine inches apart, “he knows how to have fun.”

“Huh,” she said, squinting at the booth, her body leaning in its direction. She smiled at Louis and Harry over her shoulder and started moving towards their group, waving her slender fingers in the air. “Thanks for the tip.”

“No problem,” Louis said, lifting his hand and flicking it once to the right. “Have fun!”

Harry waited until she was out of earshot before he pressed his nose to the front of Louis' tight black button down, breathy laughter muffled by his shirt. Louis started to laugh, Harry's lips brushing over his collar bone. He dropped his hand to Harry's hip and gently squeezed.

“You're an excellent wing man even when Niall is not aware you're being a wing man! What a pal!”

“I try, I try.” Harry pulled his face off of Louis' shirt, which smelled of cotton and washing powder, and smiled at him. “Sorry about that.”

“It's okay,” Louis said, laughing. “It's fine. It happens. A lot, I'm sure, since you look the way you look. You know, all,” he waved his palm in a circle near Harry's face, “clean, hot, and dirty.”

Harry was about to say, “Not that often,” but the words never came out. Instead, he stared at the pale blue eyes of the tall gentleman who slid up behind Louis.

“Woah, woah, hello,” Louis laughed, his eyes popping out of his head and his body turning around. “I'm more of a drinks, dinner, then bum related activities kind of guy.”

Harry saw Louis' hand flattened over a spot on his bum. He frowned, stepping closer to him. Louis peered up at the man, who had gelled black hair even more sculpted than he did. 

“Sorry, hand must have slipped,” the man said, showing a mouth full of straight white teeth. He angled his hips and legs in such a way that he was almost pressed against Louis' side, his body half blocking Harry. “I couldn't help but notice you all alone over here.” He held his hand out. “I'm Mitch.”

“Excellent! Good to know. Now, Mitch,” Louis patted the center of his chest and smiled brightly, “you have yourself a lovely evening.”

Mitch's hand remained poised for a shake.

“How about we get those drinks and dinner sometime?”

Louis opened his mouth, but Harry's raspy voice drawling, “Sorry to interrupt, but he doesn't seem to be interested,” sounded before he could spit out a response.

Mitch grit his teeth and glared at Harry, who was around his height, Louis sandwiched between them. Where Harry's side of the sandwich smelled of sweetly spicy skin and soap, Mitch's side of the sandwich reeked of Gucci Guilty, which wasn't a terrible cologne when used in normal quantities, but was a bit much when used as a full body coating.

Mitch's voice sharply asked, “He doesn't eat or drink?”

“I eat this one's cock almost every day,” Louis said, thumbing over his shoulder towards Harry, his face still towards Mitch. “I guzzle his come, too.” He flattened his hand over his heart and patted his chest. “He keeps me well fed and hydrated. Such a gentleman.”

Mitch rolled his eyes and sighed, his body shoving into Louis' shoulder on his way to the dance floor. Louis turned around and leaned his side on the bar. He ran his fingers over the top of Harry's forearm.

“Well, he was a delight,” Louis said, tugging gently on a pinch of his downy arm hair. “Sorry about that. I think I'd rather take my chances with Claire than him.” He raised his eyebrows and smoothed his fingers over the bump of Harry's wrist. “You were saying?”

Harry grinned, watching Louis' clean, short fingernails graze over his knuckles.

“You've slept with women?”

Louis' eyes narrowed.

“I don't believe that's what we were talking about. But,” he shrugged, “yeah, a few actually. Mostly when I was a teenager.”

“Did you like it?”

Louis thought for a moment, his lips pursed forward. He nodded, sipping his drink through its straw.

“Yeah, I guess I did. I mean, sex is sex when your sixteen. It all felt good, at the time. And I still find boobs to be really cool, even though I prefer cock.”

“Understood. Boobs are definitely cool.”

“And you?” Louis traced the vee between Harry's middle finger and ring finger. “Same question.”

“Yeah, I think maybe, like,” he squinted at the ceiling, “six women total? Plus a couple of more just snogging when I was, like, a kid. You know what I mean.”

“And?”

“And what? It was nice.”

“Nice? Not hot?”

“I think, uh,” Harry laughed softly, cheeks pinking, “it was pleasurable and hot, I guess. But not like when I'm with a man. I'm probably stating the obvious, since I date men and want to be with a man in the long run, but I prefer having sex with men. Being with men.” He put his lips to his drink for a sip, forgoing his straw, Louis' eyes watching the bob of his throat. “But I guess I'd never close myself off to either. I've always thought I wasn't straight, I just didn't know the exact percentage of how my sexuality would be distributed.”

“I think I knew from the beginning.”

Harry's eyes zoned in on Louis' face, his interest radiating off of him in waves.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

“I would get kind of horny,” he said on a giggle, Harry giggling with him, “every time Power Rangers were on, but I wasn't looking at the pink or yellow ranger, you know?” Harry's grin illuminated the three foot circumference around them. “So I knew, but still felt like experimenting with both men and women, just to see what I liked.”

“And you like being with men better?”

Louis' hand slid against the front of Harry's jeans, his touch firm and warm but all too fleeting. By the time Harry looked down at his hand, it was gone.

Louis flicked his straw side to side with his tongue and smiled.

“Obviously.”

“You're a filthy tease,” Harry said, his fingers tangling with Louis' on top of the bar. “I love it.”

Louis giggled, biting his straw between his front teeth. Liam and Zayn appeared at their sides, Zayn next to Harry and Liam next to Louis. Their fingers separated on top of the bar.

“Hi,” Liam said loudly, squeezing the back of Louis' neck. “Having fun?”

Louis lifted his nearly empty glass and smiled.

“Indeed.”

Zayn nuzzled the side of Harry's neck.

“Babe, you know what your stubble does to me,” Harry moaned, smiling at Liam.

Liam cackled at Zayn's eye flutter, Louis' eyes crinkling amusedly while he sipped his drink.

Zayn whispered in Harry's ear, “Are you two quite done with your bar foreplay?”

“What?” Harry laughed, looking over his shoulder. Zayn's warm brown eyes bore into him, Harry smiling and letting out another laugh. “What are you talking about?”

Zayn pointed his thumb towards the seating area. 

“There's a group of women in the booth next to ours and they've been discussing how to approach both of you to set up an orgy.”

“A what!?” Louis practically shouted, giggling breathily. “An orgy!?”

“They said you look like you're about to fuck each other silly on the floor of the bar,” Liam stated easily, leaning over to grab two fresh drinks. “Or on the bar itself, though they can't decide who tops.” Louis and Harry both went red in the face, avoiding each other's gaze at that moment. Liam handed Zayn a tumbler of something dark and amber colored. “Here, babe.”

“Cheers, love.”

Zayn and Liam smiled at them before floating away, Zayn's hand gripping Liam's arse through his tight black trousers.

“Wow,” Harry said slowly, dragging out the vowel. He rolled up on the balls of his feet. “An orgy.”

“Yeah, you know, just a,” Louis finished his drink, “normal Saturday night.”

Harry giggled, “We're just a couple of magnets tonight, aren't we?”

Louis laughed and put his empty glass on the bar. He flipped Harry's hand over, stroking the soft pulse of his wrist.

“Yeah, must be something in the air. This place must pump in hormones or pheromones or whatever.”

Harry caught eyes with a muscular, short man lingering behind Louis, his white button down unbuttoned nearly to his navel. He quirked a brow and the shaggy blond squinted at him. The blond paused, looked from Harry to Louis, then turned. He retreated to the other side of the bar, shaking his head to a group of people.

“We should see who attracts the most people at the end of the night,” Harry said, looking back to Louis.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. No flirting and no leading on,” Harry said, thumb circling Louis' middle knuckle. “No being mean to people. This is just who approaches one of us.”

“Saint Harry.”

“Winner gets...I dunno. Hmm.” His face lit up. “Oh! Dinner cooked by the loser?”

“Dinner and a blow job?”

“Sure.”

Louis held out his hand.

“Done. Though,” he smiled at Harry while they shook hands, “may I add something to the prize?”

“Sure,” Harry shrugged. He kept holding Louis' hand, even after they stopped swaying their arms. “What else do you want if you win?”

“Winner gets to pick what the loser wears while cooking and serving dinner.”

Harry squeezed his hand.

“Deal.”

Louis released his hand and smoothed his shirt down his stomach. He ran both hands through his hair, finger-combing his piecey style back into place. His fingers grazed over his chin. He found no spots of stubble and no lingering pieces of lime. 

Harry turned his body to the bar and put his hand on his groin, shifting himself in his pants. He unbuttoned two more buttons of his shirt and fluffed it out. It draped looser and lower over his chest. He rolled the sleeves higher up his forearms.

“You think showing some nip is gonna get you attention?”

Harry smiled and ran his hands through his hair. It was extra tall and shiny tonight, as if he'd blown the front back and straight but left the back alone.

“Attracted your attention, didn't it?” His mischievous eyes glowed at Louis. “Is that one point for me?”

Louis snorted and took two drinks from James, who had heard their entire competition plan. Drunk people often lost the ability to sense how loud they were talking in a crowded club.

“I don't count because I'm a fellow competitor.”

“Sure, sure.”

He handed Harry his vodka soda and held up his tequila gimlet. They clinked glasses and drank, their heads tilting back in unison. Harry licked his lips and placed his drink on the bar. He furrowed his brows and watched Louis roll the back of his shirt up. The end result was his shirt being tucked high enough so that it was tight to his lower back, just above his pant line. 

Louis turned his back on the rest of the club and pressed his stomach to the bar, popping his arse backwards with his ankles crossed.

“Oh, c'mon, that's just not fair!”

Louis laughed loudly, his head dropping down he was laughing so hard.

“It's my arse!” He wiped his hand under his eyes, dabbing tears away and still giggling. Harry's smiling face came into focus. “I can use it for whatever purposes necessary.”

Like clock work, a slim man with dark stubble and jeans tighter than Harry's walked up to the bar, his dark brown hair almost brushing his shoulders. 

“Hi,” he said to Louis. His smile was warm and friendly, a thin metal ring looped through his bottom lip. Black scrawled tattoos snaked over his wrist. “I'm Stewart.”

“Hello, Stewart,” Louis said, holding his hand out and angling his bum towards Harry. He wiggled his arse, almost close enough to brush Harry's groin. “Pleasure to meet you.” He glanced over his shoulder and whispered, “One.”

Harry smiled at him and faced forward. Louis' eyes focused enough to notice a large breasted brunette walking towards Harry. 

He felt Harry whisper, “Bring it on,” against the back of his neck.

. . .

An hour later, they were on the dance floor, house music pounding in their ears, heat and sweat and evaporated alcohol shared among the large group of dancing people.

Louis shouted, “Sixteen,” to Harry. Someone ground up against his arse, an arm looped around his stomach. “Whoops.” He started to laugh, leaning back into their weight. “Seventeen.”

Harry grinned and shouted back, “Seventeen for me, too,” before lowering his face to a red headed woman's neck, his arms draped around her body.

. . .

“Fuck, oh, fucking God,” Louis whined, Harry's body pinning him to the back seat of the cab. “I can't believe we're—we're--”

Harry swiveled his hips just so and Louis was falling, bucking up against him.

“Fuck, Harry--Coming--”

“You're s-so hot,” Harry managed to choke out before coming hard in his pants, Louis' hands sliding down the back of his jeans. He gripped his bare arse and pushed Harry's body against him for faster humps, Harry shouting, “Fucking hell!” into his neck.

That night, they both fell asleep in the cab.

. . .

“I still think that I should have been credited for five of the orgy women.”

Harry stretched his arms in the air and yawned, body shivering slightly. Louis stood up from the floor between his legs. He smirked at him and thumbed the corner of his mouth, Harry's cock doing a little twitch in his newly fastened jeans. He propped his hands on the back of his head, letting out a relaxed sigh. 

“Why? There were eight women, we gave each other four points for their group expressing interest in us.” Louis knocked the faucet on and washed his hands, enjoying the slow, low tone of Harry's post-orgasm voice. A loud beep cut through the room. “I think that was more than fair.”

Louis turned off the oven timer. He slid an oven mitt on and pulled a small, flat pan out of the oven. He dumped it into a waiting ceramic bowl, small roasted red potatoes tumbling down the buttery surface. He stuck a big spoon in the bowl and placed it on the table next to a bowl of spinach salad.

“I think the sparkly purple dress one was more into me than you. Sandy was her name, I think?”

“Oh, really?” Harry laughed, amused. Louis flicked the remaining drops of water on his fingers onto Harry's face. “And why's that?” He picked up a small potato with his fingers and tossed it into his mouth. “It's not because you're bitter that I beat you by one point, is it?”

Louis bent over at the oven to check on their steaks. He heard Harry licking his fingers behind him. The sound should have been disgusting, but he knew very well what Harry could do with those fingers and with that tongue. He was standing near an open oven, yet his arse felt hotter than the pan of sizzling meat. 

He pulled the pan out with his left hand and stood upright, turning to face Harry, a large fork in his right hand.

“It was just a feeling,” he said, waiting three seconds for Harry's eyes to drag up the front of his body. Louis stepped up to the table and stabbed one of the juicy steaks. He dropped it on Harry's plate with a soft thud. “She wanted my meat more than yours.”

Harry smiled and reached out, wrapping his arms around Louis' waist. 

“I like your outfit.”

“Yeah, well,” Louis looked away to fork his steak onto his plate, “you picked it.”

Harry had taken all of three seconds to make his wardrobe request of, “Shortest shorts you own, loose tank, barefoot, please,” while grunting against Louis' neck in the cab.

Louis left the empty pan on the table beside a dish of crisp green beans and tossed his oven mitt on his chair. He brushed his hands together.

“It's basically just pajamas. You're far kinder than I am.”

“What would you have had me wear if you won?”

Louis smiled while still rubbing his hands together. 

“Nothing. Maybe an apron, if I was feeling generous.”

“I figured.” Harry's thumb slid up the bottom of his baggy white tank. A dark square design read _New Wave_ in the center. He traced along his bottom rib. He flattened his hand on his bare lower back and pulled him forward, Louis straddling him easily. “You look gorgeous in this.”

Louis' brows shot up, his barked laugh higher than usual.

“Gorgeous?” He giggled lightly and settled himself in Harry's lap, the balls of his feet pressed into the floor. “I look like I'm about to go to yoga. Or to sleep. I can't even remember the last time I wore these shorts. I think I got them when I was, like, fifteen at footie camp.”

“Mmm. Yoga.” Harry gripped his bum, squeezing once. “Sleep. Shorts. You play footie?” 

“You're literally moaning random words I just said. And yeah, from time to time for the Simone team.”

“It's just so many pleasurable things that I associate with you.” He looped his thumbs in the waistband of Louis' tight black athletic shorts and hummed again, biting a kiss to the front of his exposed shoulder. “You look amazing.” He slid his hands up the sides of Louis' legs, palms smoothing his soft hair, the flimsy material not even at mid-thigh. “You have such good legs.”

Louis' voice was quiet to point out, “They're kind of meaty.”

“I know.” Harry squeezed his thighs gently and kissed under his chin. “So bloody strong.”

. . .

Harry pulled his ear buds out and rubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes. He sniffled and walked over to the sink. He pulled his rubber gloves off and threw them in the trash, taking his time washing his hands. His earbuds vibrated in the air as they swayed from his pocket to his knee. He dried his hands and took his mobile out of his pocket.

_are you going to gray later?_

He pouted and typed a response, his face mirroring his chosen Emoji.

**bc of valentine's day this is one of my obnoxious weekends...working today through sun :( :( :( i'm off mon-tues tho**

_fuck it's valentine's...i honestly forgot_

**what are you doing right now?**

Louis sent him a photo of his work desk, an array of files and sketches of watches spread out over the glass top. He didn't look like he'd be getting to Gray for some Thirsty Thursday drinks anytime soon. Harry smiled and held up his phone, taking a photo of his work station.

_holy chocolate covered strawberries!!!_

**i know. if i never see another one in my life it'll be too soon**

_but you're providing romance to the people of the world_

**why don't people find a nice loaf of bread romantic? easy to make in mass quantities, requires very little care, and carbs are delicious**

_start making heart shaped, pink, chocolate bread and you might start a phenomenon_

**chocolate bread? correct me if i'm wrong, but i believe that's called...cake**

_what time are you working until tonight?_

**prob midnight**

_you officially have the worst hours of all time_

**i know...i feel sort of poorly, too...not good**

_what do you mean? r u sick? what's wrong?_

An oven timer buzzed loudly in the kitchen, Harry's lungs jumping with a shocked breath. He clutched his phone to his chest and placed it on the counter. He shuffled to the oven and checked on one of his creations. He put on two heavy-duty oven mitts and took out two large pans of mini-tart shells made of shortbread.

He forgot all about his phone on the counter, which still had ear buds plugged in. Any incoming text or call didn't sound aloud due to the headphones.

An hour later, Harry was bent over a tray of firm raspberry jelly, cutting precise rows of cubes in preparation for drizzling them in dark chocolate. He was completely focused on each line, sweat beading on his forehead. His hair was held back by a black headband with a black hair net over it. 

“Harry, my love?”

He looked up from his work and smiled. He stood up straight, placing his knife on the counter. He stretched his hands in the air, clenching his fists and opening his fingers.

“Do you need help with something?”

Helena's cheeks were flushed rosy red, her hand brushing over the front of her throat, her eyes curved into happy half moons.

“You have a visitor in the front.”

Harry pulled off yet another pair of rubber gloves and tossed them in the bin. He lifted the tray and placed it in one of their industrial sized refrigerators. He walked towards the front of the kitchen. He swiped the back of his hand over his forehead and itched his hair through the net.

“I do?” He stuck his hands into the sink, washing them with cool water. “Who?” 

“ _Beaux yeux. Un doux sourire."_ Helena fanned herself, picking up one of Harry's chocolate covered strawberries. She bit into it and sighed dreamily, sinking against the counter. “ _"Très beau, mon amour."_

“ _Ah, je vois_ ,” Harry laughed, drying his hands. Helena slipped into French from time to time when she was feeling lovey dovey. He straightened his white apron. “ _Beaux yeux? Quelle couleur?"_

“ _Bleu._ ” Her hand was curved delicately like a ballet dancer, her fingers floating through the air. “ _Bleu comme la mer."_

“ _La mer? Ah. Est-il..._ ” His brain flickered to the last person who visited him at work after business hours. “ _Irlandais?._ ” 

Helena licked chocolate off her fingers and smiled with her lips shut.

“ _No, mon amour.”_

“ _Anglais?.”_

“Oui.”

“Hm.” 

Harry handed her a napkin, brows inching closer together. 

“ _Je crois,”_ Helena dabbed her mouth, her lips curled into an amused little bow, “ _qu'il a dit que son nom est,”_ she batted her pale green eyes at Harry as he passed, her smile growing, “Louis?”

Harry pushed the swinging door to the bakery open and heard Helena say Louis' name just as his eyes landed on his back. Louis turned from the case of sheet cakes.

“Hi,” Harry breathed, the swinging door knocking him in the bum. He stumbled forward, Louis smiling and lifting his hand in a silent greeting. Harry rounded the counter. “Oh,” he pulled his hair net off and put it in his apron pocket, “yikes.” He pulled off his headband and ruffled his hair, smiling with only the left half of his mouth. “That's not embarrassing at all.”

Louis laughed softly and reached up. He stroked Harry's fringe into place, his palm lingering on his cheek. Harry glanced towards the door to the kitchen and relaxed, Helena nowhere in sight. He wrapped his headband around his wrist.

“You feeling okay?”

“Oh, um,” Harry's eyes fluttered, his head leaning towards Louis' touch, “I'm okay. Tired and sort of stuffed up, but okay.”

“This is for you,” Louis said, handing over a small paper bag.

“Me?”

“Yes.”

Harry accepted the bag and opened it. His nostrils filled with heat.

“Soup?”

“It's spicy Thai chicken soup. It's got loads of lemongrass in it, which makes it so, so spicy. Mostly it's just hot. It's a pleasant burn. Plus, it'll make your nose run, which is good. You should get out whatever sickness you've got brewing.”

“I have read that spicy food helps with your health,” Harry said, taking another deep breath. “But,” he lowered the bag from his tingling nose, “just to review, you came all the way here to bring me soup?”

“Shush,” Louis laughed, rubbing his hand through the back of his hair. Harry's eyes were glued to his flat stomach, his burnt orange jumper riding up almost to his navel. “I was in the area.”

“Carrying a bag of Thai soup?”

“I just got a bit worried, is all.”

Harry's features seemed to shift into the center of his face, concern straightening his lips.

“Worried? Why, what's wrong?”

“You said you felt poorly and you seem like the type to ignore the fact that you're sick. And you didn't answer my text, so I was only to assume that you passed out into a vat of chocolate or frosting and drowned to death.”

Harry swallowed a mouthful of saliva he didn't realize was building and nodded, smiling and resting the warm soup against his body.

“What happened to Gray?”

Louis shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I stopped by. Said hello to the guys. Had a drink. Was alright.”

Harry's face fell.

“Did you leave early to bring me this?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Louis said, laughing and gently prodding his stomach. “Gray was whatever. I left because it was...I was...” He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and smiled down at his shoes. “It was...” He released his lip with a pop and looked up at Harry. “I guess I just wasn't in the mood.” He shrugged, the lighter flecks of blue in his eyes glowing. “I was sort of bored.”

“Gray's really nice, though. And the guys are always fun.”

“I was sort of bored without you there,” Louis said quickly on one breath.

Harry clutched the bag of soup to his chest, running that clarification through his head. He nodded and squeezed his hands, the bag crinkling loudly between them.

“Oh.”

“Well,” Louis clapped his hands together, “I should let you get back to work. Long night ahead of you. Long weekend. Lots of,” his eyes landed on a spot under Harry's ear, thumb brushing his neck, “chocolate to melt and so on.”

He licked his thumb. Harry touched the same spot on his neck. His face heated.

“Ah, yikes,” he brushed more chocolate off his neck, “guess I'm a bit of a mess.”

Louis stood on tip toe and sucked the smudge of dark chocolate, humming against his warm skin. His mouth opened just a touch wider, tongue lathing the strong tendon of Harry's neck.

“I thought you didn't like sweets?”

“Mmm, but you taste so salty with the chocolate.” He kissed around the spot and then sucked it again. “Spicy. Delicious.”

Harry smiled and let his head tilt, wild tingles bubbling up and down his spine faster when he felt Louis hold onto him by his apron pocket, lips still sucking rhythmically on his neck. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Mmm.” He sucked softly, nibbling a bite with his teeth. “Throw a little caramel on there and I'd break the skin, I'd bite you so hard.”

Harry chuckled and moved his face to the side, their cheeks rubbing together.

“How am I supposed to focus on chocolate for the next three days now that you've gone and done this?”

Louis smiled against his jawline and nipped his chin.

“You're a professional.” He patted his stomach, putting some air between them. “I'm sure you can handle it.”

Harry smiled at him and itched the small red spot Louis' lips left on his neck, the slow motion of his lips making Louis rethink having any air between them. 

“You know,” Louis said, eyes shifting over Harry's shoulder, “your boss is peeking through the little window.”

“She was all aflutter from you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. She thinks you have beautiful eyes the color of the sea.”

Louis' cheeks colored and he smiled bashfully, his fingers brushing the back of his neck.

“Does she?”

“Yes.”

“That's nice of her to say,” he said softly. He gave Harry's apron pocket a gentle tug. “You're done Sunday at what time?”

“Three, hopefully.”

Louis' eyes rolled in a slow half-circle, his bottom lip nibbled between his teeth. He blinked and met Harry's gaze, well aware of Helena's smiling face in the window behind them. He stroked the side of his neck, fingers catching in the cooling trace of saliva his kisses left behind. He kept his voice low enough to carry to Harry's ears only. 

“On Sunday at four on the button, I'm going to go downstairs and leave an extra set of keys under the mat in front of my building.”

Harry pursed his lips forward, his eyes narrowing.

“Okay?” he said slowly, smiling. “And?”

Louis' voice dropped in pitch, a bit more rasp in his tone. He kept his gaze focused solely on Harry's face.

“At five after four, I'm going to take off all my clothes,” Harry's eyes rounded curiously, “and get on my bed. I'll wait until ten after four. If you can make it into my bedroom by ten after four, you can,” his lips trembled with unsung laughter, face brightening, “eat some Valentine's candy hearts with me.”

Harry's foggy eyes returned, a confused chuckled breathed out of his lips.

“Eat some candy hearts?”

“Yes. Candy hearts. If you're not there by ten minutes after four, clothes go back on, candy put away, keys removed from the mat under the door.” He dragged his thumb softly down the front of Harry's throat, keeping eye contact. “If you make it there in time, you can eat some candy. But you won't be eating candy out of a bowl.” He saw a flicker of understanding light behind Harry's eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing under his thumb. “Or a dish.”

Harry opened his mouth, his face nudging forward, no words coming out. He swallowed again and looked over his shoulder towards Helena, who ducked under the window line.

“I might not make it there in time,” he looked back to Louis, “by the time I go home and shower and stuff.”

Louis clicked his tongue a few quick times, shrugging and dropping his hand from Harry's neck.

“Then I guess I'll just have to help myself, if you're not gonna make it.” His fingers walked down the front of Harry's apron. The gentle light of Harry's eyes burst into flames, his lips settling in a determined smile. “Maybe I'll even call you so you can listen to what I do to myself without you.”

“I'm going to make it there on time.”

Louis patted his crotch softly, as if he was petting a kitten.

“Good attitude.” He smiled and turned away, giving Harry's apron one last tug. “Good luck with your chocolate.”

“I'll see you Sunday.”

Louis opened the door, wrinkling his nose and squinting.

“Will you, though?” His face relaxed into a smirk. “We'll see.”

Harry laughed and shook his head, Louis hiding his grin by dropping his face while he left the bakery. He pulled the cup of soup out of its paper bag and his laughter quieted. He ran his thumb over one of the hearts drawn in black Sharpie around the edge of the cup, that wild tingly spine feeling extending through his entire body.

He moved back into the kitchen, avoiding Helena's sweet voiced questions. When he didn't answer her in French, she started speaking English, but still he seemed unable to speak. Instead, he left his soup on one of the counter tops and pushed his hairnet over his head. He pulled gloves on, eyes focused on a pot of melted dark chocolate on the counter. 

Helena ate another chocolate covered strawberry and watched him work in silence. He took shortbread dough out of the fridge and brought it over to an empty pan. He loaded the dough into a cookie shooter and started to squirt flat circles over the tray.

“What are you making, my love?”

“A new chocolate.” He wiped his forehead with his shoulder. “I just thought of it.”

“What's in it?”

“Bite of shortbread.” He laid another quick row of dots. “Salted caramel. Spicy dark chocolate.”

“Mmm,” Helena said, rubbing her round stomach. “I can't wait. Comment vas-tu l'appeler? _[What will you call it]_ ”

Harry smiled and bit his bottom lip, slowing in his cookie shooting. 

“Le Louis.”

“Le Louis,” Helena giggled, clapping her fingers together. “Le Louis! Magnifique.”

. . .

Louis tapped his bare toes against his bed and yawned. He scanned through another blog article on his iPad and glanced at the time. He smiled to himself and started a mental countdown of sixty seconds.

It was rather cruel of him to set such a strict deadline for Harry's arrival. Maybe he should have given him a bit more time to go home, clean up, and travel back to Louis' flat. Especially since Harry was likely dead on his feet from his crazy weekend of work. 

Or he could have offered a deadline to make it to his flat and shower, then continue onwards from there. That would have been a bit more doable. But giving him a challenge was much more fun when it was just that. A challenge.

Twenty seconds remained on the clock in his head. He started to whisper numbers aloud. 

“Twenty. Nineteen. Eighteen.” He brushed his fingers over his lips. “Seventeen.” He yawned again. “Sixteen...”

When he reached ten, he pushed himself up with his hands and pressed his knees into the mattress. 

“Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.” He shut his iPad and placed it on his bedside table. “Five. Four. Thr--”

The door to his flat slammed against the wall. Every hair on his body stood up, his tongue touching his top teeth and stuck on the number three. Heavy footfalls ran towards the bedroom, louder and louder until the door flew open.

Harry's voice roared, “Don't you _dare_ move.”

The room went silent, save for Harry's hard, quick breaths. Louis froze in place, his toes curling. He lowered himself back onto his stomach and looked over his shoulder. Harry's stomach was panting, his red plaid shirt half over his head. He threw his shirt on the floor and took in what Louis had done. 

He was sprawled face down on his bed. Miles of tan skin were on display on his black sheets, marred only by the obscene rainbow of candy hearts he had sprinkled from his lower back to the dip between the backs of his thighs. Pale purple, pink, yellow, green hearts, all looking more delicious by the second. 

Louis' eyes slowly dragged up Harry's body, his bottom lip popping out from its snagged place in his teeth. He smiled and shrugged his right shoulder, a renegade pink heart tumbling between his shoulder blades.

“How are you real?” Harry asked, kneeling on the end of the bed.

Louis lifted his feet in the air, slowly swaying them. He touched his big toes together and smiled wider.

“Well?”

Harry gripped his ankles and pinned them to the bed. He spread his legs wider and a few of the hearts pinged onto the mattress, the sudden, rougher motion making Louis press his face into the pillow, his bottom lip bitten so hard he could swear he tasted the metallic tinge of blood.

Harry pressed his face into Louis' right cheek, dragging his palms up the backs of his thighs. He sucked a purple heart into his mouth that had balanced just above Louis' opening, Louis' spine shivering when he heard the candy crack between Harry's back teeth, fingernails digging into his sides.

“I hope you know I'm going to eat every fucking one of these.”

Harry's tongue flicked a yellow heart out of the way to lathe over his entrance, Louis finally releasing a loud moan, his body trembling under Harry's tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In terms of foreign language, I used Google Translate, plus the expertise of my sweet friend Kat, who read through the French bits and told me they sounded okay, so hopefully it all makes sense!
> 
> OUTRAGEOUSLY [ Beautiful Valentine's Day art](http://36.media.tumblr.com/17cc5552fde507898628498bb6eafc7c/tumblr_n8apilectY1s9nd4po1_1280.jpg) for the end of this chapter by [neqx](http://neqx.tumblr.com)
> 
> So incredibly thankful for that!!
> 
> . . .
> 
> Title is from my favorite Tegan and Sara song, [ Relief Next To Me ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yftgnkdan8%20)
> 
> Come say hello on [ LJ](http://dolce-piccante.livejournal.com) and [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com) :


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And it continues! Over 11k words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay, y'all! Some personal stuff had to take center stage and I've been traveling, so I haven't had a lot of time/consistent internet.
> 
> Thank you SO MUCH to [Jess](whitechimes.tumblr.com) for putting up with my insane emails and dealing with these next two super long chapters.
> 
> Finally, thank you for everyone who commented/kudos/bookmarked! Your kind words have really helped in a tough time, so thank you so much!<333
> 
> Enjoy!

“I can't believe you kept that secret from me for so long!”

Louis giggled and squirmed out of Liam's grabby handed, peppermint lotion scented hug. His bum bumped into the side of his desk, Liam's fingers prodding his sides.

“I was sworn to secrecy!”

Liam planted his lips on the side of Louis' neck. He released him and sighed, his hands on his hips.

“Such sneaky friends.” 

Louis stepped around him to grab a pile of papers. He stacked them in his hands and placed them in the center of his desk.

“Did you have fun?”

“Of course,” Liam said, sinking into the chair across from Louis' desk. He crossed his leg. “We got to snowboard and relax for three days straight in the mountains. When the spa called and said they didn't have anyone for me for Valentine's weekend, and all my house calls told me they would be out of town, I almost had a heart attack, but now I know Zayn planned this whole thing.”

Zayn came into Louis' office with his laptop and sat on the red sofa against the wall. He opened the screen and balanced it on his knees.

“Louis did a lot of the calling and arranging.”

Liam raised his eyebrows and looked to Louis, who smiled while clicking around his computer.

“I just made a few helpful calls. Some rescheduling of clients.” He clicked his mouse once. “Nothing huge.”

“You consolidated all of my clients from that entire weekend into my free time this week, while still leaving me generous lunch breaks every day,” Liam said, rolling his eyes. “My clients have all been raving about my new receptionist named Louis.” Louis smiled wider at that bit of information. “You are a scheduling wonder.”

“I do love my iCal.”

“Do you wanna just order lunch in?” Zayn asked, rubbing his stomach. “I'm actually in the mood for Chinese for once. Or maybe Thai. I want some noodles or something.”

“We could do either and I'd be happy,” Liam said, spinning in his chair to face Zayn. “I don't have a client until three, so whatever is easiest for you two.”

Louis said, “I'd be down for Chinese. Or, we could go to--”

“Louis?”

All three looked towards the open glass door. Suzi's eyes could barely be seen over a mound of fluffy white peonies, her hands clasped around a water filled glass vase holding the bright green stems.

“Um,” Louis blinked at the flowers, the swerving feeling of deja vu swirling in his stomach, “yeah?”

“Sorry to interrupt, but these,” she placed them on an empty corner of his desk, “are for you.”

“Me?” he laughed, his voice going higher. He stood up and leaned forward, sniffing the bouquet. “You're sure?”

“Yup, all yours. Just arrived.” She brushed her hands together, smiling wide. She stroked the top of the blossoms. “They're gorgeous.”

Zayn and Liam reached for the card envelope, but Louis snatched it away just before Liam's fingers made contact.

“Thanks, Suze,” Louis said, sitting back in his chair. She stood at the door, her arms crossed over her chest. “What?”

“Aren't you going to read the card?”

Liam propped his elbows on the desk and folded his hands together, balancing his chin on his fists.

“Yeah, Lou,” he said in a sing-song voice. Zayn's chin nudged its way on top of his shoulder, their faces side by side. “Aren't you going to read us the card?”

“I will read the card myself,” Louis said, holding it to his chest. 

“Aw, c'mon, I wanna know who it's from!” Suzi whined, Louis laughing and shaking his head. “Flower deliveries to the office are so romantic!”

“They really are,” Liam butted in.

“Nope, sorry. Thanks for bringing them, though. You could have just called and I'd have picked them up from the front.”

“I bet I know who it's from,” Zayn said, eyes twinkling.

“You be quiet,” Louis said, pointing the card towards him. He pulled it back to himself. “Anyway, we need to figure out lunch and eat. Some of us need to get some work done today.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Suzy sighed, rolling her back on the door frame. “See you all at the meeting later. Well, except you, Liam. Unless you're offering company back rubs?”

Liam laughed, “Uh, no, sorry. I'm booked.”

Louis pulled the tiny card out of the envelope. He held it in his palm and tilted it towards his face. 

**You did candy, I'll do flowers. A different vessel, but the intent is the same. You tend to let secrets (like your favourite flower) slip out before you doze off. Thanks for Sunday. Made my hellish work week totally worth it. You know I love a challenge. -H**

Zayn and Liam watched Louis' frozen, unblinking face. The only movement was his eyes scanning the note repeatedly. Right, left, right, left.

Louis placed the card face down on his desk and lowered his forehead, resting it on top of the card. 

He could have sworn he only fell asleep for mere seconds after coming, but somewhere in his mind he could hear Harry's raspy voice asking random questions. At the time, he thought Harry was just trying to keep him awake. Apparently, Harry was better at planning in advance than Louis would have given him credit for. 

His sudden, high pitched giggle made Liam and Zayn jump away from the desk, Louis' back bouncing while he continued to laugh softly. He sat up in his chair with his bum still almost at the edge and wiped his hands under his eyes, his stomach protruding outwards. The card stuck to his forehead, both Zayn and Liam leaning closer with squinted eyes. Louis grabbed the card and stuffed it in his pocket.

“Did I see the word vessel?” Zayn asked, face scrunched.

“Yeah,” Liam watched Louis stand from his desk and throw his coat on, “what does that mean?”

Louis rounded the desk and gripped the back of both of their shirts, his mouth alternating between a blinding smile and his best attempt to remain neutral.

“C'mon,” he moved them towards the door, “let's go out to lunch. It's on me today.”

. . .

Harry walked up the steps to his flat, rubbing both hands through his itchy hair. He pulled his hands out of the wavy mess, a mixture of sweat and powdered sugar coating his palms. He lifted both arms over his head, stretching as he reached his door. He pressed his nose under his left arm.

"Ugh." He sniffed under his right arm quicker. "Fucking reek."

The bakery could get pretty warm sometimes if all ovens were firing at the same time, especially if the seating area and counter got crowded. They were swamped that day and Harry spent most of the day in the back scrambling to prep pan after sweltering pan of baked goods.

He wiped his hands on the front of his white tee and pulled his keys out of his pocket. The door opened before he could get the key in the lock.

"Hi, honey," Niall said, holding the door open for him. He smiled, but his eyes flitted to behind Harry. He bounced from foot to foot, tugging on Harry's rucksack strap. "What'd you bring us?"

Harry stepped inside and dropped his rucksack by the door, one of his work headbands looped around his right wrist. He knelt down and unzipped it, pulling out a folded hoodie. He left that on the floor, digging deeper inside.

"A few fruit tarts," he pulled one container out and held it up, "a botched batch of shortbread," Niall took the tart container and the white paper bag of cookies, "and some extra chocolate raspberry mousse that was leftover."

The container was plucked out of his hands.

"Mmm, mousse."

Harry looked up at the hand attached to the container and saw bare feet standing in his foyer. 

"Oh. Hi," he said on an exhale, standing upright. He started to smile at Louis, his hand automatically lifting to ruffle his hair. He stopped with his hand mid-air, the memory of sticky sweat and his smelly shirt freezing his limbs. He dropped his arm. "What's up?"

Niall's chin propped on Louis' shoulder, a beaming grin stretched across his face. He might have had strawberry seeds between his teeth.

"Louis just revolutionized my press kit, website, logo, everything!"

Harry raised his eyebrows, Louis avoiding his gaze and popping open the mousse container for a quick sniff.

"Really," Harry said, following Niall into the kitchen. 

He glanced over his shoulder, Louis padding a couple of steps behind him. He leaned down at the kitchen table. Niall's laptop screen was full of colors and sharp lines, his name splashed over a mock up of a business card, a CD case, and letterhead. His lips pursed happily, his head nodding forward without realizing it. 

"Woah," he laughed softly, lifting up a sheet of paper depicting an angular black logo that included Niall's name. "Sick. This looks amazing." He turned his face towards Louis' warmth, eyes glued to the paper. “You made this for him just now?”

"Louis has officially replaced you as my favourite friend," Niall said, nudging his fingers into Harry's side. "I'll get spoons. Tea, anyone?"

"Yes, please," Louis said.

Harry giggled, "Me too," and gently pushed Niall's wiggling fingers away, arching to the side. Louis placed the container of mousse on the table, leaning down at the laptop. He clicked around a few times. Heat lingered beside his body, Harry's eyes tracing each move of the cursor over Niall's laptop screen.

"Hanging out with Niall one on one?" he said soft enough for Louis only.

Louis shrugged his left shoulder, his body gravitating towards the human sized ball of warmth at his side.

"He's great, and his music is lovely. We got to talking the other day and," Louis paused, squinting at the screen and clicking twice in rapid succession, "talked a bit about design, graphics, things like that. He's given me enough free drinks for a logo or two."

Niall placed three steaming mugs of tea on the table, Harry's fruit tarts on a round white plate.

"What are you two up to for the rest of the day?"

Harry and Louis exchanged a look, though Louis made more of an effort to remain neutral. Harry nibbled his bottom lip between his teeth. Louis' hips leaned towards his body, their posture mirror images.

"Uh, let's see," Niall said, interrupting their heated stare. He shut his laptop, shuffling Louis' sketches into a pile in the center of the table. "I should probably go mess around with some lyrics." He threw a quick smile at them. "Starbucks wifi is a godsend. You guys can have the place as long as you need."

Louis broke their stare and laughed easily.

"Nah, that's boring." He nudged his shoulder against Niall. "Let's watch that movie you were talking about."

Niall stopped moving so furiously, Harry's eyebrows nearly at his hairline.

"The funny one. Uh, what's it…The one with beer?"

"Beerfest!" Niall said, grinning and clutching papers to his chest. "Fuck yeah! I'll go set it up."

"I've got to shower quick," Harry said. He pulled his tee over his head, shaking his hair out. "Can you wait a few minutes?"

Louis walked past him, Harry's eyes glued to his arse as he pranced by.

"Sure." Louis turned to face him, walking backwards. That only changed Harry's view from his arse in tight black work trousers to his groin in tight black work trousers. He lifted the mousse container, eyes crinkling. "Might not be any left for you, though."

Ten minutes later, Harry plopped on the sofa next to Louis, much more comfortable and a lot less smelly. A plate of what remained of his baked goods sat in the center of the table, their cups of tea on either side. Niall spread out on a worn, maroon recliner off to the side, his thumb moving automatically over the remote to start the DVD. 

Louis extended his arm on the back of the sofa, Harry's head nudging its way towards his shoulder.

"You smell good," Louis barely breathed, masking the comment by fixing his own hair. He handed Harry the mousse container, a spoon balanced in the remaining chocolate fluff. “Have at it.”

Harry grinned without looking at him, pressing their thighs together. He spooned some into his mouth.

“Thanks.”

“Do you own an endless supply of slouchy black tees?”

“I buy them in bulk,” Harry said out of the corner of his mouth, spooning more mousse inside.

The microwave beeped from the kitchen.

“Ah, shit, the popcorn,” Niall said, throwing his body over the side of the recliner.

They watched him fumble around the kitchen for a few seconds. Harry plopped the empty container on the table and sat back on the sofa, licking his lips. Louis' pulse sped up, warm fingers slipping under the back of his shirt. While Niall dropped a metal bowl on his foot and did a kitchen dance, Harry's fingertips dragged up and down his spine, barely touching his skin.

“Thanks for the, um...” His body arched closer to Harry, Harry's hand flattening on the small of his bare back. “Flowers.” His pinky finger touched the side of Harry's thigh. “The other day.”

Harry chuckled low in his throat and drew a collection of circles.

“I've got no idea what you're talking about,” he said, voice thick and deep.

“Oh, no? Huh. I received the most beautiful white peonies at work, which I might have taken thirty-eight photos of throughout my day from various angles in my office.” He clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth, whispering under his breath, “I guess they were from Herman, the other person who ate holiday themed candy out of my arsehole on Sunday. Sorry, my mistake.”

That pulled a louder laugh from Harry. Louis tucked his foot under his bum and smiled.

Softer, Harry said, “I'm glad you liked them,” the circles over Louis' lower back growing larger.

Louis' fingers crawled over the top of Harry's thigh, fingertips grazing the inner seam of his skinnies.

“Herman is very thoughtful,” he whispered. “And...Kind of...Really sweet.”

Harry smiled through the rush of heat searing his body and hummed.

“Here we are,” Niall said, appearing in front of them. Louis pulled his hand away in time for Niall to drop a bowl of popcorn on Harry's lap. “You two okay with sharing?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Harry said, palming a handful of popcorn. Louis leaned forward to sip his tea, Harry's fingertips never leaving his skin. He grabbed two shortbread cookies and sat back on the sofa. “You're actually eating cookies? Since when?”

“Being around you is going to make me gain weight,” Louis said, biting into a cookie. He groaned aloud, his eyes fluttering. “Why are these botched?” He licked crumbs off his lips. “It tastes perfect.”

“I put an extra cup of sugar in it on accident. Silly me.”

Louis hummed, munching on another bite. Niall held up the remote and pointed at the television, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Are you ready to die laughing? You might piss yourselves.”

“Bring it,” Harry smiled, his arm snug between Louis' waist and the back of the sofa. “We're totally ready.”

. . . 

They refrained from pissing themselves, but did nearly die laughing after an hour and a half of beer related jokes.

“Ah, shit,” Niall said between laughs, pushing himself off the recliner. He looked at his phone. “I've got to go.” He shoved his phone in his back pocket. “I've got a date.”

“Ooh, la, la,” Louis giggled, tears still lingering in his eyes. He blinked quickly to clear his lashes. “Where are you going?”

“We're going to get sushi. She said she likes sushi. Sushi and vodka.”

“What a combination,” Louis said. “Don't mix both together too much, or you might end up with a bit of a mess on your hands.”

Harry got up from the sofa, their empty bowl of popcorn in hand. He walked to the television and took out the DVD. 

He asked, “What's her name?”

“Claire.”

“Claire?” Louis repeated, laughing, Harry's eyebrows lifting amusedly.

“Yeah, we met at a bar.” Niall held onto the recliner and shoved his foot in his trainer. “She might be crazy, but we'll see.”

Harry turned away from the television, meeting Louis' gaze. His full lips curled up at the ends.

“I'm sure you'll have a good time.”

“Yeah,” Niall replied brightly. “We'll see!” 

Niall went into his bedroom, Harry busying himself with their empty plates and mugs. Louis changed the channel to a cooking programme, curling both of his legs up on the sofa. The chef was at the vegetable chopping part, which was always such a fun part to watch. 

He listened to Harry running water into the sink, dishes moving around quietly, his ear moving closer to the kitchen with his eyes still on the television.

“You need any help?”

“Nope. Almost done.”

The water turned off. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Harry drying his hands on a towel. Niall flew out of his room.

“How do I look?”

Louis eyed him up and down, Harry doing the same with his hands still holding the towel.

“Looking good,” Harry said, tossing the towel on the counter. Louis hummed in agreement, something about the tight short sleeved grey button down ringing a bell in his head. “Nice shirt.”

“It's yours,” Niall confessed with a shrug. “All my other shirts are band tees.” He sniffed himself before shrugging his leather jacket on. “Alright, then.” He ruffled his hair. “Off I go for sushi.”

Louis said, “Have fun!” and waved from the sofa. “Don't eat too much wasabi.”

“Nah, you gotta eat the wasabi, man,” Niall said, hurrying towards the door. “Then they think your eyes water because you're all emotional and shit.” He grinned. “Works like a charm.”

Harry pulled the door open for him.

“Brilliant. I'll have to remember that.”

Niall laughed and shouted, “Thanks for the help, Lou!” from the hallway, Harry shutting the door behind him. Harry smirked softly and leaned his back against the shut door.

“Lou now?”

Louis smiled and focused on the television again, his cheeks warm. Harry pushed himself off the door and went back to the sofa. He threw himself down, letting his legs sprawl over Louis' thighs.

“Um, hello, person here,” Louis said, jostling his legs gently. “Though, it is your sofa.” He sighed and rested his hands on Harry's shins. “I suppose it's alright.”

“We should go get sushi for dinner.”

Louis laughed loudly.

“Why? So you can eat wasabi and make me think you're emotional?”

“Maybe.” Harry crossed his ankles on the end of the sofa, wiggling his toes in his bright green socks. “Maybe I just want sushi.”

“Mmm. I actually could go for some, now that you mention it.”

“So.” Harry sat up, pulling his legs to a more normal position on his half of the couch. The motion would take all of three seconds for a normal person, but with Harry's long legs, it seemed to take days for him just to fold his legs enough to move. “That was really...” He squinted slightly as Louis, smiling. “Not unexpected. But just...Pleasantly surprising of you to include Niall in our plans.”

Louis shrugged one shoulder, his body turning towards Harry.

"I remember what it was like to be the friend whose best friend just started banging someone. You feel like you can't hang out with your friend in your own home. It's both infuriating and lonely, because you're truly happy for your best friend, but you also feel left out in some weird way. I never want to be that person. To cause someone to feel that way.”

"You're nice."

Louis snorted, “Right,” and rolled his eyes.

"No, I'm serious," Harry said, body shifting on the sofa. He sat on his bent right leg, his knee pressing against Louis' thigh. "You're…Considerate. And really nice. An unusually nice person." He tilted his head towards the empty recliner. "You don't really know Niall. And you sort of know me, but we're new friends. Yet you were…So nice to him. Some people would have ignored him because technically he's just a flatmate. They would have just gone straight to my room and possibly made him uncomfortable. But you're becoming friends with him, and that...It means a lot."

"It's not that difficult being nice to people," Louis said, laughing softly. He smoothed his shirt down his stomach, fingers playing with the hem. "I know I give off a cranky vibe sometimes, but…I dunno. If I try my best to be good to people, maybe one day someone not so nice will be good to me." He itched behind his ear, moving to face Harry. He smiled, his eyes crinkled nearly shut. "I'm not making sense."

"Nah, you are. Nice. And making sense."

Louis laughed louder, his eyes fully shut and his stomach vibrating. 

"We're officially not making sense. I think I need a coffee or something to perk my brain up before I start having a giggle attack." He pointed a finger at Harry. “You must have put something funky in that shortbread.”

Harry laughed, the sound deep and warm, his fingers brushing Louis' cheek. He touched just underneath his ear, thumb stroking along his jawline.

"I wanna kiss you."

Louis stopped laughing, his tongue clicking once against the roof of his mouth. 

"Don't be foolish, Sugar Plum.” He could smell peonies and heat and Harry's skin, warm and throbbing on the inside of his wrist. He dropped his hand to the sofa. “That would ruin this beautiful friendship we've been cultivating."

"Cultivating like a garden that we water with semen and sweat."

"You're gross," Louis said, laughing again, Harry shuffling closer and exhaling small, short laughs. Harry propped his elbow on the back of the sofa, his fingers brushing through the back of his wavy hair. “But I kind of love your sexual imagery.”

“I'm glad. I pride myself on my sexual imagery skills.”

“As you should. You're gifted.”

“But I'm not going to kiss you right now.”

Louis' shocked, gasped laugh came so suddenly out of his mouth that his chest vibrated. He giggled, “Oh, no? You're not?”

“Nope,” Harry said, popping the P and then smiling wide. “Not right now.”

“And why's that?”

He shrugged one shoulder, smirking.

“Because.”

Louis' face shook side to side, his eyes widening when he heard no explanation.

“Because?”

Harry nodded, giggling for a few seconds.

“Yup. Because.”

“You make no sense.” 

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

“N...” Louis' tongue got caught behind his top teeth. He pushed the word, “No,” out on his second try, Harry's teeth shining at him. 

“No?”

“No.”

“Because it sounds like you were asking a lot of questions. Almost like you wanted me to kiss you.” Harry leaned closer, his hand warm on the side of Louis' neck. “Kind of like in your room? Remember? With the spinach pizza?”

“We weren't going to kiss.”

“We weren't?” Harry asked, throwing extra confusion into his tone.

“Alright, enough of this,” Louis said, standing up and gripping Harry's forearm. His spine felt too tight and curled up to sit any longer, tension twinging in his limbs. Harry's big, smiling eyes looked up at him. Maybe he needed some sushi after all; he looked ready to pounce and bite. “C'mon. Show me your bedroom. I've already seen the cupcake shower curtain, but I think I need the full tour.”

“Oh, right,” Harry said, standing up. He watched Louis' fingers trail down the top of his arm. “I forgot you've never seen it.”

“Nope. We've never made it past the sofa whenever I've been over here.”

“Right, right.”

Harry smiled and led Louis to the left. He took a few quicker steps and opened the door, peeking his head inside. 

“One second,” he said, laughing softly. He went into the room and shut the door, Louis smiling and waiting outside. He licked his lips and exhaled, pulling his shirt away from his chest and airing himself out. He released his shirt and Harry pulled the door open. “Alright,” he held his arm out, “c'mon in.”

Louis stepped into his bedroom.

“Did you have to hide your underwear or...”

He trailed off as he took another step inside. His bare feet slid on the dark hard wood floor, the room even more filled with sunlight than he expected. He went to the window and pulled back the sheer white curtain. Sunlight spilled over the wood floors and up Harry's king sized bed, his walls such a pale blue the colour could be mistaken for white.

“Nah, not underwear,” Harry's voice said softly. “A couple of comic books.”

His white duvet was spotless but looked slept in. Comfortable. The white covered pillows balanced along the headboard were crisp, but two of the pillows on the left side had a bit more of a dip to them. The sturdy dark wood bed frame stood proudly tall with four posts.

Louis walked to the window, his feet rubbing against the soft black square rug Harry had in the center of his room. It took up about half of the center, enough to keep bare feet from freezing when getting out of bed at four in the morning.

“How do you have the only room in London with actual sunlight? It's gray out there, but sunny in here.”

Harry smiled and shrugged, his hands in his pockets.

“I'm lucky, I guess.”

“This is...” Louis let the curtains flutter closed. “Nice.” Sexy. “Really nice.” Borderline romantic. “Cozy.”

“You thought my room would be a mess?"

"Not a mess, per say. Just…" Louis ran his fingers over the top of Harry's chest of drawers, fingers tangling in a few necklaces he had on a silver platter. He turned to Harry and shrugged, smiling. "I had no idea what it'd be like. But it's, uh....”

He walked to the bed and sat down, bouncing twice. When he looked back to Harry he saw him leaning against the furthest wall, one arm crossed over his belly with the other angled up, his chin resting on the heel of his hand. Harry smiled at him, warm and lazy, Louis still bouncing ever so slightly.

"I try to keep a clean kitchen and bedroom, since at work I'm sometimes covered in, I dunno,” he scratched the back of his head, “chocolate and sugar and butter."

"That sounds appealing to me."

Harry barked a low laugh, Louis grinning at the white down comforter. 

“Your bed is really comfortable,” Louis said, softer, hands still rubbing over the bed. He looked up at Harry. Harry pushed himself off the wall and stepped closer. “Now I see why you like naps so much.”

“Your bed is nice, too.” Harry rubbed his thumb up the side of Louis' neck. He smoothed his hands over Louis' chest, legs on either side of Louis' thighs. He knelt one knee on the bed. “Though we haven't christened this one, yet.”

The front door opened at that moment, Harry's head dropping.

“You really should become more familiar with the sound of Niall coming and going,” Louis said softly, rubbing him through his jeans. He planted a wet kiss on his neck. “It would help with your sexual frustration.”

“ _You_ are the cause of my sexual frustration.”

Louis laughed and jutted his fingers into Harry's sides, just below his underarms. The door shut loudly, following by the sound of footsteps landing heavy on the landing. 

“Hm,” Harry hummed, straddling him again. He brushed his lips over Louis' neck. “I guess we're on our own again.”

Louis smiled at the ceiling, Harry's hand pressing against his half hard cock.

“Whatever will we do to pass the time?”

. . .

"So, you and Harry seem to be spending a lot of time together," Liam said, spooning scrambled eggs onto Louis' plate. “Did he sleep here last night?”

Louis shrugged, sipping his coffee.

"Nope. You know my stance on sleepovers. And, no, not really that much time."

Liam sat at the table, propping his feet up on an empty chair.

"No?"

Louis looked away from his toast, a hint of crumbs lingering on his chin.

"Not really," he repeated, shrugging again. "We fool around once in a while. We like the same food and are usually hungry after we fool around, so we eat once in a while. He's pleasant to spend time with, so he comes over once in a while or I'll go over to his once in a while."

"All those once in a whiles adds up to lots of a whiles."

Louis took a big gulp of coffee.

“We're friends.”

“I know. I'm just saying, I think it's cool you get on so well together.”

Louis smiled and pushed some eggs onto his toast.

“Friends are usually people who get on well together. That's how friendship tends to work.”

“Yes, yes, Sassypants. I'm aware of how friendship works. I just...” Liam spun the base of his mug on the table. “I think it's great.”

“That I made a new friend?”

“That you made a new friend like Harry.”

Louis held his hand over his mouth, giggling with eggs and toast smushed inside.

“Is this your best friend speech about how you think Harry and I are destined to be together forever? Or are you so fond of Harry at this point that you're going to give me the, 'Don't break his heart,' speech?”

Liam rolled his eyes and laughed, kicking Louis' feet under the table. 

“I'm not making a speech. I'm just saying, it's been great having him around. Niall, too. It's kind of crazy how all our groups of friends meld together.”

“It is pretty lucky.” Louis swallowed, wiping his napkin over his lips. His eyes glimmered at Liam. “I think we both remember what happened the last time two of my groups of friends tried to work together.”

Liam's face flushed but he smiled, dumping ketchup on his plate. 

“I'm just saying, you two are cute together.”

“We're not cute,” Louis exclaimed, laughing. “We're just friends.”

“Cute friends.”

“We are not.”

“You're pretty adorable together.”

“Are you quite finished?”

“You're adorably cute together.”

“You're so full of shit. You've barely even seen us interact and suddenly you're the expert.” Louis giggled and stood up, his plate in hand. He patted the top of Liam's head. “You kind of burned the eggs, by the way.”

Liam gripped his arm and looked up at him, eyes smoldering.

“Like you burn for Harry.”

Louis threw his head back, his laugh ricochetting around the kitchen.

“You need to stop watching romcoms,” he pressed his lips together and stifled a sob, “though I know that'll be tough,” the right side of his lips curled upwards, “as you and Zayn like to act them out in bed.”

Liam slapped his arm.

“That was one time you heard us! Once!”

. . .

"You ready to go? Niall said they're almost here. Oi, what's with this? I thought you were taking a quick shower before we left?"

Louis scrunched his face, smiling through his wince. The _this_ Zayn referred to was his lack of nighttime attire. Instead, he had on a worn pair of dark skinnies and an oversized black Muse tee shirt, a gray beanie smushed on his head with his damp fringe sticking out. Liam smiled and crossed his arms over his chest, Zayn quirking his hip.

"Yes, Louis? Do you have something to share with the class?"

He inhaled sharply through his teeth, as if he was bracing for a punch.

"I'm not gonna make it out tonight."

"You little shit," Zayn laughed. "We're going to Chandelier, your favourite!"

"I know, I know. I'm just not in the mood."

"Is everything alright?" Liam asked, shrugging his black peacoat on. He turned towards Zayn, his eyebrows raised, and softly asked, "What do you think of this on me?"

"Looks perfect," Zayn whispered back, hands smoothing the material over his broad chest.

"Yeah, I'm just not in the mood, to be honest." Louis rubbed a hand across his face. "I don't feel like dealing with noise and smoke and being hungover all weekend again."

"We have been hitting it pretty hard lately," Zayn said. He pushed his palms up the sides of his head, checking himself out in the black frame of the television screen. "Their group is wild."

"They're so fun," Louis said, nodding. He smiled, his eyes brightening. "Super fun, even! But I'm just like, eh." He eyed the kitchen, leaning his shoulder on the wall of the archway. "I kind of want to do a laundry-wine-chill night."

Liam squeezed Louis' shoulders, smiling down at him.

"Understood. I should have known when I saw riesling in the fridge."

Zayn's shiny black shoes slapped against the hardwood floor. He grabbed his iPhone from Liam's room.

"Oh, Harry's sitting it out, too," he said, reentering the living room.

Both he and Liam brought their eyes to Louis, their brows raised and Liam on the brink of laughing aloud. Louis looked behind himself then held his hands up, palms out.

"Hey, I have nothing to do with that."

"And he says," Zayn said smugly over Louis' words, "that he's walking with Niall over here, because he has a CD for me and,” he threw in a gasp, “keys to the flat to return to you?”

Liam and Zayn continued to stare at Louis, Zayn's lashes fluttering and Liam's lips pursed for a kiss. Louis crossed his arms over his chest, his left foot molding to his right inner ankle.

"What's with the look? I let him borrow keys the other day because it was just easier."

"If you wanted a little action, that's all you had to say," Liam said, finally starting to giggle. 

Louis' outraged eyes bore into him, Zayn muffling his laugher in Liam's shoulder.

"I swear, I didn't plan this for Harry to come over." Liam's laughter came out as a snort. "I don't even want him to come over tonight."

There was a knock at the door.

"Can you get that, babe?" Zayn said to Louis, gripping Liam's hand. He pulled towards the bedroom, Liam grinning and following him. Their shoes clunked against the hardwood. "I need Liam's help with my hair."

Louis sighed and rolled his eyes. As if Zayn couldn't manage his perfect hair on his own. He dragged himself to the door and pulled it open halfway.

"Hey, beautiful!"

Niall pressed his lips to Louis' cheek, loudly smacking a kiss. 

Louis laughed, "Hi!"

Any petulant attempt to pretend he didn't enjoy Harry's company melted when he saw him standing behind Niall. His long legs were wrapped in painted-on denim. His black coat hung off his shoulders, shoulders that seemed like they were built specifically to fill out a fitted peacoat. The neckline of his red plaid shirt was open, revealing his collarbones and the fact that he had no tee on underneath. A navy blue snapback sat on his head with his curls exploding outwards. 

Harry smiled slowly, his teeth biting just a pinch of his inner bottom lip.

"Hi," he said, stepping up to take Niall's place. He put his hands on his hips. "Do I get a kiss hello?"

"Nope," Louis replied, turning around and walking into his flat. He looked over his shoulder, Harry's eyes jerking upwards to meet his gaze. "At least, not on my face."

Harry's smile grew wider, Louis turning away from him but smiling at the floor. He shut the door and took keys out of his jacked pocket. He placed them on the kitchen table just as Liam and Zayn returned, all hairstyles in place and perfect. They greeted Harry and Niall, hugs exchanged all around.

"Here we are," Harry said, pulling a CD case from his inner jacket pocket. He handed it to Zayn. "A Styles mega mix."

"Yes," Zayn said, holding out the s. He flipped the case around, eyes scanning each title. "God, you are obsessed with 90's R&B. I fucking love it." He tapped Harry's arm with the case. "Thanks, man."

Harry shrugged, smiling with the left half his mouth.

"No worries. And this,” he pulled a white paper bag out of his pocket and held it towards Liam, “is for you. Well, all of you, I suppose.”

Liam took the bag and opened it, his jaw dropping.

“Did you make all these chocolates?”

“Yeah. It's just a mix of what I did for Valentine's.”

Liam's face lit up.

“Thank you so much!” He squeezed Harry's shoulder. “Jesus, they look amazing. I didn't even know you sold chocolates at the bakery.” He placed the bag on the kitchen table. "What are you up to tonight?"

"Dunno. I need to do laundry, though.” He scratched under the side of his hat. “That's a must."

Liam raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth, eyes rolling to Louis. Zayn already was smiling at Louis, his brows wiggling suggestively.

"That's what Lou is doing as well. A little bit of," he winked, "laundry."

“Um,” Harry squinted at Zayn motioning his fist in and out of his mouth, his tongue pressing his cheek out, “alright?”

"For fuck's sake," Louis said on a laugh, pulling his hands down his cheeks. He smiled at Harry's wrinkled, scrunched expression. A curl had escaped the side of his cap, his lips pursed in a tight circle. "They think we're both skipping drinks because we want to fool around. And laundry is our way of getting out of it."

Harry's confusion took a moment to lift, but his features eventually smoothed, his eyes glued to Louis' face. 

"Ohhh," he said, holding out the vowel and nodding. "Yeah, I guess I can see why they'd think that."

"Hah!" Liam pointed both fingers in Louis' face. "I knew you planned this!"

"But I didn't," Louis groaned, walking into the living room. He flopped on the sofa, limbs sagging in opposite directions. He rolled his head on a pillow, crossing his ankles on the arm of the couch. He caught eyes with Harry and smiled, putting extra breath into his voice to sigh, "Harry?"

Harry laid his coat over a kitchen chair. He walked up to the sofa, his hat in his hand. He ruffled his own hair, finger-combing his fringe into place.

"Yes, my darling?"

Louis almost laughed aloud, Harry placing his cap on his big toe and spinning it.

"Bring me a glass of wine, will you?"

"Of course."

Louis smiled at Niall, who was watching their exchange amusedly from a chair in the kitchen.

"If he's going to pretend we had a master plan, he can at least get me a drink."

He kicked the hat up in the air and caught it. He pulled his beanie off and dropped it on the coffee table, replacing it with Harry's cap and twisting the brim a touch to the side. Bottles clinked in the fridge, Harry bent over with light shining around him.

"Red or white, my darling?"

"White, please. Thank you, Sugar Plum."

“Anything for you.”

"We need to leave," Zayn said, moving to the door. “Sugar Plum has to be one of their codes for something.”

Harry walked around Zayn with two glasses of white wine. He sat on the arm of the sofa and handed over a glass to Louis.

"Shall I rub your shoulders for you?"

"Yes,” Louis nudged his shoulders one by one into the pillow behind him, “you know how that loosens me up for coitus."

"Oh, God, get out," Niall said, pulling Liam by his sleeve. “Shield your eyes! We need to leave and drink until we forget that Louis knows the word coitus.”

“I'm going to coitus you so hard later,” Harry said on a deep growl.

Louis' ability to remain serious flew out the window and a loud laugh ripped from his stomach, his body spasming on the sofa. Harry laughed and toed his boots off, neither noticing the trio of men dry heaving as they left the flat. The door shut quietly.

“I guess you really do need to do laundry.”

Harry followed Louis' gaze and smiled, curling his toes into the floor.

“They're clean. Mismatched,” he itched the top of his black socked right foot with his left foot, which was covered in red fabric with tiny white dots, “but clean.”

“Why do you always run out of matching socks at the end of your clean clothes? That makes no sense.”

“My socks rarely match. I have to get dressed for work when it's still dark out and I'm usually half asleep.”

Harry held his wine glass in his left hand while he used his right hand to lift both of Louis' legs. He sat on the sofa and lowered his legs over his lap. He sipped his wine, then leaned to the side and placed the glass on the coffee table. 

“That actually makes sense. I see you got yourself a drink, which is fantastic.” Louis sat up a bit and sipped his wine. “You saved me a trip to get you a glass.”

“I'll try to drink fast so you can get to your laundry and stuff.”

“You don't have to,” Louis said, tossing him the remote control. He scratched the back of his head. “I already did a load and just put my other basket in.” He looked up when he felt smooth fabric instead of his soft knit beanie. “Oh, sorry.” He took Harry's cap off. “This is yours.” 

Harry smiled at him with his lips around the rim of his glass. He accepted the hat, but placed it on the table.

“It looks good on you.”

Louis pulled his beanie on and adjusted it over his hair.

“I know you have stuff to do, too. So...You can, you know. Whatever you want to do is fine with me. You can stay or you can go, whichever you prefer.”

Harry replaced his glass on the coffee table. He crossed his ankles on the floor.

“What are you watching?”

“Nothing.” Louis propped an arm behind his head. “I had footie on but got bored. You can put whatever you want on.”

Harry hummed and started to surf around, his arm warm over Louis' ankles.

“Aw, yeah,” he whispered excitedly, placing the remote on Louis' thigh. He turned his face towards him and smiled, dropping his gaze and laughing softly. “I love this show.”

Louis recognized the cooking competition programme. He watched it almost every time he found reruns on and had a deep love and respect for the cast members, but he couldn't focus on shallots or truffle oil or baskets of mystery ingredients when Harry started to massage his bare right foot, gentle presses of his thumbs going up and down his arch.

"The phrase, 'Masquerading as a potato,' is killing me," Harry attempted to say while he giggled. “I feel like the word masquerading should be used more often in conversation, don't you? It's so dramatic.”

“You don't have to do that,” Louis blurted out. His left foot hid under Harry's thigh. “I know feet aren't for everyone.”

Harry smiled with his face towards the televisions and shrugged.

“I don't mind. You've got nice feet.”

An unfamiliar burn of heat rushed to Louis' face, his mouth glued shut when he should have opened his lips to breathe. It wasn't quite arousal, it wasn't quite embarrassment, and it wasn't quite surprise, but it felt like it was originating inside of his gut. He held completely still, not even swallowing the saliva building in his throat. 

“Thanks.”

“Hm?” Harry looked away from the television, smile relaxed. “What'd you say?”

“Nothing. Just...” Louis watched Harry pull his other foot out from under his thigh and place it in his lap. “Nothing.” He relaxed on his back, the unusual burn in his torso meeting each of Harry's presses along the bottom of his foot. “That feels...really good, by the way.”

Harry grinned, “Cool,” and pressed just a touch harder under the ball of his foot, Louis exhaling a soft, “Oof,” and curling his toes, his eyes squinting shut. Harry laughed and did it again, Louis' toes pushing into his inner thigh. Louis stretched his arms over his head, arching his back on the sofa.

“You're gonna put me to sleep.”

“I tend to have that effect on people.”

“You do not,” Louis giggled, stroking his toes along Harry's thigh. “You're the least boring.”

“I do love sleeping, though.”

“That's true. Do you...”

Harry looked away from the television. Louis was smiling at the ceiling, one arm bent above his head and the sleeve of his shirt riding almost all the way up his bicep.

“Do I what?”

Louis' face tilted to see him, his foot rotating in his lap.

“Do you want to see what I was really going to do tonight?”

“What about laundry?”

“Well, I already started to do that, but I have a little ritual for when I do my laundry.”

Harry grinned wide and warm, his body turning towards Louis, his hands still holding one of his feet.

“Yeah, I want to see the ritual.” He nodded and smiled even wider, his body bouncing. “Definitely.”

“But you have to do it with me. It can't just be me.”

“Alright, sure.”

Louis smiled and lifted his foot, attempting to prod Harry's nose with it. 

“You'd do anything with me without even asking what it is?” Harry laughed and moved his face away, Louis' toes nudging the top of his head. “What if the ritual involves me murdering you and using your blood for a religious sacrifice?”

Harry dodged his foot again and jutted his head backwards, pinning Louis' bobbing ankle to the back of the sofa. His fingers crawled up his pinned leg.

“Harold, not the thighs,” Louis said, already laughing without Harry even squeezing. He tried to pull his leg out from behind his head. He pushed his toes at his gently prodding fingers and started to giggle hysterically. “Not the legs! I fucking hate that!”

Harry smiled and smoothed his hand over the top of Louis' knee, Louis' body relaxing.

“I trust you not to bleed me out for the ritual.”

“Good,” Louis said, slightly out of breath. “Now, release my leg. We've got a ritual to perform.”

Harry moved his head and started to stand.

“Hey,” he grunted, laughing, his body pulled back to the sofa. Louis' weight landed on his torso. “I fall for this every time.”

Louis' legs wrapped around his neck, his ankles locked behind his head, his thighs hugging his face.

“So pretty, but so gullible. I told you,” he reached underneath himself for any soft part of Harry, “I'm scrappy.”

“Fuck.” Harry squirmed away from Louis' fingers as they danced up his sides, throaty giggles bubbling out of his mouth. “Your legs are unfairly strong.”

“You said you liked them strong.”

“I do,” Harry giggled, pulling his way out. He wrapped his hands around the tops of Louis' thighs. “But when I imagine them on my shoulders, this isn't usually the scenario I have in mind.”

Harry squeezed hard and Louis gasped a laugh, his legs falling from around his body.

“You cheeky shit!”

Harry grinned down at him, his hair covering in his eyes.

“C'mon, get up. I don't want to humiliate you by pinning you to the sofa. Your ego is so fragile, as it is.”

Louis popped up off the sofa, his beanie crooked and the right leg of his jeans higher than the left.

“I would drag the floor with you if we wrestled,” he said, pushing Harry's hair off his forehead. He patted his cheek. “It's such a potent mix of endearing and sad that you don't realize just how clumsy you are.”

Harry leaned over and pressed his shoulder into Louis' middle, his arm wrapping behind his knees.

“Hey!” Louis laughed, Harry spinning them in a quick circle. He gripped the back of his shirt, then slapped him on the arse. “Unhand me! Or at least bring me to the toilet. That's where the ritual starts.”

Harry started towards Louis' hallway. Louis looked around as he floated through the door to his bedroom. He hummed.

“Things look different from your height.”

Harry smiled and wrapped his arm around his arse, bending over until his bare feet could touch the ground. Louis opened the cabinet above the sink.

“Now what?” Harry asked.

Louis shut the cabinet and turned to him, smiling with a pale green tube in his hands.

. . .

“I wonder if this actually tastes like mint? It smells like mint.”

Louis said, “I wouldn't try it,” from Liam's hallway. He shut the door to their washer-dryer and pressed a couple of buttons. He walked back into the living room just in time to catch Harry's tongue stretched out of his mouth and angling towards his green left cheek. Louis laughed, “Ew,” and sat next to him. He touched Harry's green coated cheek and rubbed his fingers together. “You're still tacky. We should wait another few minutes.”

Harry read the back of the mask tube, his lips pursed forward. 

“It says it's organic and paraben free, so that's good. The ingredients look pretty legit. Maybe it's edible.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Louis stroked Harry's hair, Harry's head leaning in his direction while still reading. He fingered a thick band of rainbow fabric stretched around his hair. “I can't believe you're wearing that. I forgot Lottie even left it here.”

Harry put the tube on the table and smiled, ruffling his own hair. It puffed up around the headband, which had sparkly unicorns riding along the neon rainbow.

“I didn't think to bring a headband for spa night. Next time, let me know in advance and I'll bring my robe and fluffy slippers, too.”

“The headband actually suits you,” Louis laughed, smearing his thumb over Harry's sticky cheek. Harry smiled, his crinkled eyes more green than usual. “You're a good sport.”

“This is fun.”

Louis raised his eyebrows.

“Fun? You go to a club and have to beat people off with a stick. You're having fun drinking cheap white wine and doing face masks on a Friday night while you watch me do my laundry?”

“Yeah. It's fun. It's nice to relax and not have to deal with the whole going out thing for once. It's fun sometimes, but most of the time it's not my thing. It gets a little boring. A little loud. And those people are strangers.” The mask around his dimples cracked. “With this, I get you all to myself for a while. Where else would I want to be?”

Louis smiled slowly, the mask on his cheeks cracking with the motion. 

“I understand what you're saying. Since we've started all hanging out as a group, it's so much fun, but it cut into our, um, alone time.”

“Exactly. You look like some sort of hot alien, by the way,” Harry said, thumbing his chin. “A hot alien who will have,” he glanced at the tube on the table and squinted, “minimized pores and a healthy glow.”

Louis laughed softly, his face tingling.

“We should text a picture to the guys of us with these on.”

Harry's forehead cracked when he laughed.

“Yes! Let's do it.”

He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and Louis shuffled closer to him. They pressed their faces together and Harry held his phone in the air.

“Good angle,” Louis said, their cheeks sticking together.

“Alright, here we go. One, two, three.”

They both stuck their tongues out at the same time, Harry's phone clicking a photo. He lowered his phone and they looked at the photo.

“Oh my God! I do look like an alien!” Louis said, Harry cackling and opening a group text. He put Niall, Liam, and Zayn into the message and opened the photo. “Wait, let's take another one. My eyes are too closed.”

“Alright.”

They got into position again, the sides of their faces touching. 

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

“One, two, three.”

This time, Louis stuck his tongue out the right side of his mouth, Harry sticking his tongue out the left side of his mouth. Their tongues touched as the photo clicked. Louis' eyes went wide, Harry's tongue attempting to get out of the way and earning a mouthful of mint.

“We should...We should take the masks off now,” Louis said, standing from the sofa. “It'll dry your skin if you keep it on too long.”

“Yeah, I'll just send the other photo,” Harry said, voice higher than usual, the side of his mouth smeared pale green. His thumbs flew over the screen. “I'm just going to write COITUS in all caps, alright?”

“Y-Yeah, that sounds good. Niall will be horrified.”

Harry stood with him, laughing breathily.

“Right. Alright, let's, um,” he put his phone in his pocket, “take it off. These.” He pointed both thumbs at his face. “The masks.”

Louis nodded, “Right,” and swallowed, walking quickly towards the bathroom. “You should probably take your socks off. And your shirt. You should at least unbutton it a bit.” Harry bent over, pulling one sock off. “When I take it off you'll get wet.” Harry fell sideways into a wall while taking his other sock off, Louis' slapping his forehead. He pulled his hand away from his face, green speckles on his palm. “From the water. You're gonna get a bit wet from the sink water.”

“Right.”

They stood side by side in the bathroom, the tile cool on their bare feet. Harry unbuttoned the top of his red and black plaid shirt, leaving it open past his nipples and almost to his navel. Louis handed him a washcloth soaked in warm water.

“Prepare for your skin to glow like the sun.”

Harry pushed his face into the cloth, starting to scrub.

“Be gentle, be gentle,” Louis softly chided, putting his hands over Harry's hands. He laughed even softer, their hands squishing together with water and mask dripping down their wrists. Harry's lips quirked upwards, his fingers lacing between Louis'. Louis took the cloth from him. “Gentle, Harold. Gentle.”

He moved the cloth over his cheeks, the warm, wet material grazing his skin and removing stripes of green mask. He rubbed a bit harder on the sides of his nose and under his chin until his skin shone through.

Louis bent to the side to rinse the cloth and was back to Harry's face in seconds, more warm water dripping down the front of Harry's neck. Harry scanned over his face, his body completely still save for his throat bobbing. Louis hadn't removed any of his mask yet and, up close, his skin looked like a dragon, the tip of his nose totally smooth and not crackled.

Louis met Harry's focused gaze, doting on a pesky spot of green on his left brow. 

“If you rub too hard, you'll give yourself wrinkles.”

“We can't have that.”

“No, absolutely not.” Louis finished wiping his face and smiled, his cheeks rounding with the quick motion. “Alright, you can rinse your face. I'll do mine.”

Harry bent over the sink and splashed ice cold water on his face, cupping some and running his hands over the back of his neck. He dried his face and let his head drop back, the air extra cool on his skin.

Louis dropped his used cloth on the counter and bumped Harry to the side with his hip. Harry moved over and opened the drawer to the right. He took his toothbrush and toothpaste out.

“Oh, I totally forgot about those,” Louis said, water dripping down his face. He reached to the side, Harry pressing a towel into his hand. He dabbed his face with the soft material. “I should get rid of them.”

Harry hummed with foam in his mouth, the brush working over his back teeth.

“What?”

“They're old.”

Louis picked up the collection of toothbrushes in the sink drawer with one hand. Harry watched him toss them all in the bin, his brows rising. 

“My sisters will all want new colours when they come back.”

Harry's face scrunched, foam dripping out the corner of his mouth. He spit in the sink.

“What are you talking about?”

Louis laughed, “Um, the toothbrushes? My sisters? What's confusing?”

Harry rinsed his mouth with water, sloshing it side to side. He spit that into the sink and wiped his hand over his lips.

“What do you mean your sisters?”

“My sisters used them the last time they slept here,” Louis said, smiling and eyeing Harry confusedly. “My sisters and my mum. M for mum, C for Charlotte, D for Daisy, P for Phoebe, F for Fiz.”

Harry's eyes widened, toothpaste lingering on the corner of his open lips.

“Oh,” he exhaled, hand gripping the wet counter top. “Your...” He licked his lips. “Sisters.”

Louis nodded slowly.

“Yes. My sisters. Why do you look so shocked? You know I've got sisters.”

“No, nothing, not...” Harry laughed aloud, his hand flying to his lips. “Not shocked. Nope. Nothing. I know. You told me. Right.” 

Harry put his toothbrush back in his mouth, smiling around the handle and finishing up his tongue. Louis placed Harry's moisturizer on the counter and grabbed his own moisturizer. He smoothed a dollop over his face, the pads of his fingers tracing easy, gentle circles on his cheeks.

“Ooh, will you do mine like that?”

Louis smiled at him in the mirror. Harry rinsed his brush under the water with his bottom lip protruding outwards and his large, round eyes batting at him.

“Please, Lou?”

“That puppy dog look won't work on me.”

Louis held both sides of his shoulders. He spun Harry to face him and picked up his moisturizer, squirting some into his hand.

“This is supposedly unscented, but it smells a bit like a soy latte, to me,” Louis murmured, dabbing moisturizer on the tops of Harry's cheeks. 

“Puppy dog look didn't work, hm?”

“Nope.” Louis started to massage his face, his fingers even more careful than when he was applying moisturizer to himself. “I'm doing this completely of my own will and volition.”

“Mmm, I love this part of the Spa Louis experience.” 

“Eyes shut, please.”

Harry's eyes fluttered shut, his head tilting back. Louis' thumbs grazed over his eyelids, dipping under his eyes and down the sides of his nose.

“Feels so nice.”

“You totally like being primped and faffed over,” Louis said, laughing softly. “You can open up.” He smoothed lotion over Harry's neck, flattening his palm and rubbing along his jaw. Harry kept his eyes closed, his head dropping further back. Louis' fingers went to his headband. He pushed it off, his fingers lacing through Harry's hair and scratching over his scalp. “I bet you love getting your hair washed when you go to get it cut.”

“Mmm, I do,” Harry practically moaned. “Love having my hair played with.”

Louis dropped the headband on the sink top. He dabbed a touch more moisturizer on Harry's chin.

“You have such pretty hair that it must be rather social.”

Harry's eyes moved under his lids, his smiling cheek bumping into Louis' fingers. Louis' palms went to Harry's bare chest without thought. Some water still lingered between his pecs, a drop on his left nipple drawing his hands to that side of his chest. He rubbed up his neck.

“My pretty hair is social?”

“Because everyone plays with it. No judgement.”

“My hair is not social,” Harry laughed. “My hair enjoys meeting new people and getting a good scratching once in a while.”

“Right. And who was the last person to play with your hair?”

“You.”

Louis' fingers faltered on his cheek, lotion getting stuck on the side of his nose.

“And before that?”

“Hmm, Niall, I think. On my birthday.”

“And before that?”

“You again. It's been only you for quite some time.”

Louis swallowed and gave Harry's cheek a gentle pat.

“All done.”

Harry's eyes opened, an easy smile stretching over his face. Louis smiled at him and stroked his cheek with the back of his hand.

“So smooth.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Harry touched Louis' face with both hands, the pads of his fingers barely dancing over the highest point of his cheek bones. Louis' eyes crinkled slightly, his eyes darting back and forth over Harry's face, his cheek leaning into his touch. 

“Helena was right,” Harry said softly, his mouth lifting. His small, warm, close-lipped smile made the hair on the back of Louis' neck stand up. “So, so right.”

Louis hummed and let his head tilt in Harry's hands.

“What?”

“About your eyes. Bleu comme la mer.” He thumbed just beside his left eye. “Such a pretty blue. Blue like the sea.”

Louis shifted his hips, his voice going soft.

“You think my eyes are pretty?”

“I think your eyes are beautiful.” Harry smiled wider, his hands growing warmer on Louis' cheeks. “Beau comme la mer. Beautiful like the sea.”

The bottoms of Louis' feet felt slippery and hot against the tile floor, more of his weight leaning into Harry's body.

“You speak French now?”

“Yeah. I'm alright at French. I speak a little Italian, too, but I trained in France for a while, so I'm a bit closer to fluent in French.”

Louis exhaled a breath and put his hand on Harry's chest.

“And you just felt like dropping that sex bomb on me while we're having spa night?”

Harry chuckled, shrugging one shoulder.

“It's not a sex bomb. It's just something about me. Hey,” Harry tilted his head away, looking out the bathroom door, “I think your wash is done. That was so fast.” His hands dragged down Louis' neck to rest on the tops of his shoulders. “Unless your oven is going off?”

Louis blinked rapidly, glancing at himself in the mirror. A buzzing sound dug deep into his ear drums, balancing out the high pitched frequency that had nearly deafened him with Harry breathing sweet French words over his lips.

“Yeah, I'll get it,” he said, pushing away from the counter. 

He walked through his bedroom to the living room and went to the washer-dryer. He took his clothes out and threw them over a drying rack. Normally, he would take his time unfolding each piece of clothing, smoothing it out, and putting his clothes in thickness order over the rungs of the drying rack. 

There was no time for laundry details when, a few short feet away in the living room, he had a tall, yoga-bodied man who smelled like heaven, liked spending time with him (and only him), and could cook, while possessing the ability to speak French and make him come with a few flicks of his tongue.

He went back into the living room and saw Harry bent over the coffee table. He refilled Louis' glass first, then took care of his own. Harry sat on the sofa and bent forward to put the empty bottle on top. He caught sight of Louis at the end of the hallway and laughed softly.

“You walk so quiet. I didn't even know you were standing there.”

Louis smiled with his lips shut tight and walked to the sofa. He sat within touching distance of Harry, both of his feet about hip width on the floor. 

“I changed the channel. Chopped ended and it was an old episode of Barefoot Contessa that I'd seen a few times. She's always making a picnic for her husband, which I understand. I'd do that, too. But this was a particularly boring picnic menu, in my opinion.”

Louis watched the Coldplay concert, Harry chattering next to him. The music for the song Paradise made it into his head but the colorful visuals couldn't hold his attention. The easy melody of Harry's voice took center stage, even as the song built up to its final chorus.

He moved his body closer to Harry and pressed their outer thighs together, his foot linking around Harry's ankle. Harry rolled his head along the back of the sofa, looking curiously at him. He found Louis to be staring at him already. His lips, so pink and soft, curled ever so slowly upwards, a warm hand sliding to his inner thigh. 

Harry's eyes sank to his lips, his smile widening at the same time as Louis' did. Louis squeezed his thigh, his gaze lowering to Harry's mouth before flickering back to his eyes, the apples of his cheeks rosier than usual. 

Harry lifted his hand, fingertips tracing Louis' warm cheek until the heel of his hand was firm over his jawline, the tips of their noses brushing. The corners of his lips kept twitching higher, his eyes bright. His arm slid between the sofa and Louis' lower back.

He whispered, “Yeah?”

Louis hummed, “Mmhmm,” and rested his hand on the pounding center of Harry's bare chest, his shirt still nearly unbuttoned. 

He smoothed his palm upwards, Harry's warm breath shuddering over his mouth. He stroked the side of his neck, light touches tickling the skin underneath Harry's ear. He saw a flash of Harry's teeth, their noses rubbing together again.

Louis smiled and whispered, “Yes, please,” barely able to tilt his head in time for Harry's plush lips to press against his own, his eyes falling shut.

The air around them went electric. Giddy. Frantic. As if they could hear particles of energy racing past their ears. As if the sofa could hold a charge just from their combined body heat and their bodies were about to ignite from the static created by their shifting clothing.

Harry's lips curled into a smile before pressing firmer, their faces rhythmically moving in opposing directions. Louis' fingers clenched in Harry's hair, his mouth opening wider to taste more of his sweet lips.

“Louis,” Harry murmured, Louis sucking his bottom lip and humming in reply. 

Harry wrapped both arms around Louis' back, pulling him closer, Louis' arms looped around his neck with his fingers scratching the back of his hair. Louis slid one leg over Harry's thighs and both made soft, groaning noises into each other's mouth, Louis' noise a touch higher while Harry outright moaned. 

Their lips smacked quietly as they started each new kiss. Louis' eyes remained closed and his head lolled on his neck, his body practically boneless while he let Harry's lips massage and suck as he pleased. His fingers managed to unbutton the rest of Harry's shirt, his hands smoothing up his stomach and chest, palms rubbing over his nipples. Harry shuddered when Louis pushed his lips against him harder, their tongues brushing together and Louis fingers clenching in his hair.

“You go so pliant,” Harry breathed into his open lips. “So hot. God, you...I thought...I thought you...” 

Harry's words were interrupted, Louis kissing him three times in rapid succession, each smiling kiss lingering longer than the last. Harry laughed breathily and kissed him three times in return, noting the curve of Louis' smile was even more tempting at such a close distance. 

“I thought you just didn't like kissing. Or didn't want to kiss me.” 

Louis gripped the open sides of his shirt and hoisted himself up the same time as Harry's arms encircled his arse, pulling him into his lap. Louis straddled him and Harry's dreamy eyes widened, glancing downwards.

“You thought wrong,” Louis said softly, sliding his arms around his neck. He smiled and brought their lips together, just barely letting Harry make contact before he pulled back, Harry's head leaning forward with a breathy grunt. “I like it too much.”

“Kissing?”

“Yeah, and I...” His lips opened with Harry's, a wet, slow kiss causing his toes to curl. Harry pushed his beanie off, lacing his fingers through his hair. “I knew I'd like it even more with you.”

“Is that why you made me work for it?”

Louis smiled and slid his hands under Harry's shirt, smoothing his hands along his lower back.

“Maybe.”

His green eyes crinkled first, then the skin beside his lips, until he was grinning against Louis' chin. Louis laced his fingers in the back of his hair and tugged, hard enough for Harry to drop his head back and Louis to kiss him from above. It was the opposite of their heights when standing, and Harry moaned into his mouth, the low sound vibrating through Louis' body.

"You like that?" Louis whispered.

"Yes. God, mmm, yes."

Louis pulled his hair again, opening their mouths wider. As Harry's tongue explored his mouth, Louis' brain filled with sugar and colors, as if a cotton candy machine had taken up residence instead of spongy brain matter. It only made sense that Harry would be meticulous at kissing. A kissing surgeon. He had the patience of a saint and made a career out of delicate art. 

His hips involuntarily started to ride Harry's groin, Harry tonguing him in time with the growing squeezes to his arse.

Harry slipped his hand up the back of his tee and dragged his fingernails down the small of his back. Louis couldn't contain the shudder and choppy groan he exhaled into Harry's mouth. He could taste sweetness and see Harry spending hours folding paper thin leaves made of fondant, or painting sugar flowers that would shatter like glass if dropped on the floor. 

"Flowers," he breathed, half delirious.

Harry smiled, his puffy lips brushing Louis' mouth. Louis shifted his weight to the side and gripped Harry's open shirt. He laid back on the sofa and spread his legs, pulling him down and smiling wider, their bare feet rubbing together. Harry flattened on top of him, their lips joining for a soft suck. 

"Flowers?"

"Mmhmm. Lots...” Harry nuzzled his neck, kissing his collarbone and dragging his teeth over his pulse. Louis let out a little giggle and arched his neck, his hand buried in Harry's hair. “And lots...” Harry kissed up his neck until their lips brushed together, both smiling and kissing again. “Of flowers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In terms of foreign language, I used Google Translate, plus the expertise of my sweet friend Kat, who read through the French bits and told me they sounded okay, so hopefully it all makes sense!
> 
> . . .
> 
> Title is from my favorite Tegan and Sara song, [ Relief Next To Me ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yftgnkdan8%20)
> 
> Come say hello on [ LJ](http://dolce-piccante.livejournal.com) and [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com)


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of talking, little bit of not talking, lots of soft surfaces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay!! Your sweet comments and messages have been wonderful to read <3 I can't thank y'all enough, seriously! I'm hoping my schedule will become a little less insane, and my personal issues will start to work in harmony with my schedule rather than this constant garbage conflict life.
> 
> HUGE thank you, as always, to [Jess](whitechimes.tumblr.com) for her CONSTANT support and help and listening to me be a cray person! She's wonderful and has helped me with this weird time in my life. Thank you!
> 
> Also, Happy (early) Birthday to Defuncts! Have a wonderful day and thank you for being such a sweet person! Yay for Pisces! <3
> 
> Alright, time to get to the fic. Again, thanks so much for keeping up with this story and I hope you continue to enjoy!! I always love hearing from readers in comments, or I just joined [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com), though I have no idea how to use it. Happy reading!

Niall leaned over the bar and grabbed three pints.

“Cheers,” he shouted to Bart the bartender, smiling wide. He turned away from the bar and took one step before almost bumping into Liam. “Oh, hey,” Niall laughed, handing over two pints. “Here you are.”

“Thanks so much,” Liam said loudly, giving him an air cheers with both glasses. They started walking back to their booth, lifting their drinks up to their faces and pushing through each bundle of people. “You never told us about your date with Claire.” 

“Ah, well,” Niall laughed and widened his eyes, “let's just say, Louis was right about mixing too much vodka and raw fish.”

“Yikes!”

They made it back to their booth and found Zayn to be laughing, his phone illuminating his face.

“What's so funny?” Niall asked, sliding in after Liam.

Zayn turned his phone towards them, still laughing.

“Did you see this?”

Niall and Liam both tilted their heads to the left, squinting at the phone. Liam started to giggle, Niall's face scrunched while he reached into his pocket. He pulled his phone out and opened Harry's picture message.

“What is that on their faces?”

“Probably mint mask,” Liam said, shaking his head slightly. He smiled and sent an Emoji face with hearts in its eyes. “Louis does it when he does laundry.” He snorted, adding another few Emoji hearts. “And he pretended that they weren't cute together.”

“So, I guess they're not actually coitus-ing,” Niall said, typing his reply of, “You nasty,” to Harry.

“Nah,” Zayn said, shaking his head. “Lou probably booted him after the masks were done. He's not much for sleepovers.”

. . .

Louis pushed Harry's open shirt off his chest, his fingernails grazing the backs of his shoulders. Their lips opened together, fitting wetly for a slow suck. He smoothed his hands up Harry's bare chest and pushed his shirt off further, Harry lifting himself just enough to shrug it off. He smiled and dropped his shirt on the floor, Louis' fingers grazing over his nipples.

“Was wondering when you'd find those,” Harry said, voice raspy.

Louis smirked and thumbed two lower spots, his bright eyes sparkling up at Harry.

“I found them quite some time ago,” Louis said, lifting his face to kiss his right nipple. He quickly kissed across his chest to suck on his left one, his fingers teasing the two additional raised nubs of skin. “They're hard to miss. Lovely little things they are. Just haven't had the chance to play. Never enough time.”

“You could have texted, called, emailed, or sent me a letter in the post at any time saying you wanted to play with my nipples, and I'd have been at your doorstep within minutes.”

Louis laughed and shifted his bum lower, Harry's hands pushing his shirt up his stomach.

“Good to know,” Louis said, fabric muffling his words. 

Harry smiled and kissed his lips the moment his shirt was over his face. He dropped his tee over the side of the sofa. Before Louis could lower his arms, Harry gently pinned his wrists above his head. Louis' eyes fell shut, but his brows rose, Harry's warm hands running up and down the undersides of his forearms. Harry pinned him in place again, kissing down to his jawline.

“Your poor neck is going to feel so neglected from now on,” Harry said between kisses under his jaw. He sucked once on the side of his neck, Louis humming and linking his feet behind Harry's calves. “Your mouth is going to get all the attention.”

“I'm not feeling too neglected, at the moment.”

Harry snuffled a laugh and said, “Good,” kissing lower on his chest. 

Louis arched his chest up in surprise, a quiet hiss exhaled out of his mouth. Harry bit his nipple again, ribbing his teeth back and forth and lathing his tongue over the pinched flesh.

“I thought I was supposed to play with your—Ah!” Louis jerked his arms all of an inch lower. “N-Nipples.” 

Harry tightened his grip on Louis' wrists.

“Doesn't mean I can't do the same to you.”

“God damn, that mouth of yours,” Louis said tightly, the biting suck to his nipple bridging on pain. He shut his eyes and shuddered involuntarily, a throbbing bloom of pleasure seeping outwards from every bite of Harry's teeth. “Jesus Christ.”

He felt Harry's warm breath over his lips for the split second before he was kissed again. He lifted his chin slightly for more contact, Harry's tongue smooth and hot against the side of his own tongue. The hold on his wrists loosened, Harry's body rubbing up against him. Louis' arms wrapped around Harry's neck, the cotton candy machine in his head whirling faster than ever.

Harry's hands slid under his body, one hand cradling his lower back, the other gripping his arse. He gently ground against him while lifting his arse in time, both puffing shaky breaths after each growing kiss.

Louis couldn't tell if Harry realized he sometimes fell into rhythm with whatever song was quietly playing on the television for half minutes at a time. Harry's mouth was so tender no matter how fast his tempo went or how hard he pressed on downbeats, his lips as welcoming as Harry himself. 

Harry's large hands touched and squeezed at random over Louis' torso, sometimes sliding up his sides, sometimes letting his fingernails drag and gather beads of fresh sweat from his lower back. Louis found himself grinding up into his touch, which varied along with his kiss rhythm. Was Harry being playful and coy? Or was he actually nervous to touch Louis through his jeans, even after having his mouth on every other inch of Louis?

“Harry,” Louis panted softly, his lips trembling against Harry's open mouth. 

He ran his fingers through Harry's hair, letting his nails drag along his scalp. The strands were so smooth and thick between his fingers. Somehow, he could see Harry's hair parting each time he carded his fingers through, could see the shine of light bouncing off his hair, even though he was going by the feeling alone. He rubbed his foot along the back of Harry's leg, his thighs hugging him tighter.

Without opening his eyes, Harry whispered back, “Yeah,” and surged onward, his body burning hotter the harder Louis' lips pushed against his own. 

Harry was in trouble. 

In the back of his mind, there was an inkling of a to-do list he had planned for the weekend. Tasks he needed to get done. Errands that needed running. Little things like buying more kosher salt, because somehow he and Niall had made it through an entire container of the stuff. Or tackling his pile of laundry that grew as the week went on. 

Then again, if Louis was game to lie around and kiss all weekend, maybe he wouldn't need clean clothes at all. And who needed salt to season food when the only thing he'd be tasting was Louis' mouth? 

He tasted sweet and warm. Sometimes, he tasted tangy like riesling on particular swipes of his tongue. His lips were soft but by no means weak, able to mold to Harry's mouth one minute and demand attention the next. Louis' tongue was as daring as he was in the bedroom. Sly and cunning. Fun. He teased Harry into frenzied deeper kisses, switching who was leading who in each kiss until both lost track.

“You should come over tomorrow,” Harry blurted out, grinding his cock against the matching hardness pressing into his hip. “When I do laundry, yeah?”

Louis blinked once, his lips slick and swollen.

“Can we do this while you do it?”

“Please, yes,” Harry said, kissing his top lip, then the bottom one. He smoothed his hand up Louis' flat stomach, the pads of his fingers dipping along the side of his stomach muscles. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Louis smiled against his mouth, giggling into another kiss. He tightened his legs and pulled himself slightly to the side. Harry squeezed his arse and shifted along with him, their bodies facing each other on their sides. Harry's back pressed against the sofa, Louis resting on the edge. 

Louis' toes brushed the bottoms of his feet until he could tuck them under Harry's ankles, his hands cupping Harry's face. Harry's hands linked in the centre of his back, both of their chests heaving together. Louis smiled and leaned in until Harry met him halfway, both humming and letting their eyes fall shut. 

While still sucking wet kisses, Harry tightened his hold on Louis and brought his body closer, a low moan vibrating against his lips. He smiled and hugged Louis again, dropping one of his arms to loop around his lower back. The moan went louder, Louis' toes curling against his feet.

“You like that?” Harry asked.

“You're so tall. Strong. Tall and strong. Just so tall and strong.”

Harry chuckled and bit his bottom lip, kissing the bite. He rubbed Louis' lower back.

“You know I love when you get poetic.”

Louis bit his lip harder, sucking Harry's tongue into his mouth. Harry's smile lines around his eyes smoothed, his fingernails pinching into the skin of Louis' upper arse.

“Does it get you hot?” Louis whispered, pressing himself against Harry.

“You get me hot. Always. All the time. Like a--” Harry gulped and tried to breathe, Louis pressing another hard, sudden kiss to his lips. His insides felt like lava, his skin nearly the same temperature as the molten substance. “Like a comet shooting out of a volcano on the sun.”

“Now who's the poet?”

Louis stroked down the front of Harry's stomach, fingers walking along the top of his jeans. The button of his jeans felt so smooth and cool compared to the tawny skin of Harry's stomach, sweat clinging to the hair around his navel. Harry lifted his hips slightly, still kissing him, humming and dipping his fingers beneath the back waistband of Louis' boxers. 

It was an unspoken signal that he was happy to lose his jeans. Happy to progress from kissing to whatever else Louis wanted. But Louis paused, their lips still moving together. He felt an unusual prick of nerves underneath his skin as he fingered the button. 

“Can we do this all night?” Harry asked, as if he could read Louis' mind. He sounded so genuine and curious, so young. “If you want to, I mean. It's just...” Harry nudged his nose against Louis' cheek, his voice going softer. Louis could feel his smile radiating light into his neck. “You feel so amazing. I've been dreaming of your mouth and I just...” Harry laughed and pressed a kiss to Louis' jawline. “I'm going to stop talking.”

Louis smoothed his fingers to Harry's hip and nudged their lips together, Harry breathily moaning and squeezing his arse. His hand slid lower, palm molding to the front of Harry's thigh. Their lips popped when they separated. 

“Do you have work tomorrow?”

“No,” Harry said, practically moaning in relief. “Thank God. Not until Sunday.”

Louis' lips still brushed Harry's, both breathing heavily, their hazy eyes struggling to remain open. Louis caught Harry's gaze and moved his hand inward. He squeezed the front of Harry's jeans, Harry wincing and pressing his forehead against Louis' cheek.

"Shit, Lou," he ground out.

Louis' eyes scanned Harry's face, their heads tilting to maintain eye contact. He squeezed Harry's cock again, his other hand cupping his cheek.

"Do you want to fuck me?"

"I do," Harry said.

He sounded certain. Sure. Strained, but in the best way. Honesty mixed with arousal for a raspy, potent tone that sent bolts of heat through every inch of Louis' body, both his question and Harry's answer ricochetting around their brains. 

Louis breathed, “I want you to fuck me,” but sounded no less at ease with the idea despite the airiness of his voice, his lips open but not quite touching Harry's panting mouth.

Harry pressed a searing kiss to his lips, breaking the kiss only to add, "Want you to fuck me, too,” their lips ghosting together. Louis squeezed his cock and he shuddered out a breath. “Badly.”

Louis hummed high and soft.

"That's a bonus. You're versatile."

"I aim to please." Harry's smile went soft as his eyes fluttered, Louis' body clinging to his front and grinding against him. “Fuck, you being so straightforward is such a turn on."

"Do you like to cuddle?"

Harry grinned and wrapped a leg around Louis' hips, maneuvering him onto his back.

"I do. I'd even go so far as to say I excel at it.”

"Fuck," Louis sighed, falling back on the couch, one of his forearms thrown over his eyes. Harry smiled, kissing a slow line up his inner bicep, his fingers busying themselves with lightly tracing their way up Louis' ribs. "Do you...”

Harry's teeth sank into the flesh just above his elbow.

“Do I what?”

“Do you...” As Harry kissed from his shoulder to his neck, Louis felt like he was falling into the sofa, even though Harry's arms were back around his body, holding him safely in place. “Want to...”

“Fuck?” Harry said on a low, easy laugh. “I think we've established that.”

“Sleep over.” 

Louis closed his mouth, his chest puffing up with a quick breath in through his nose. Now his skin felt like lava, his face especially hot under Harry's unblinking stare. His mouth opened to talk, but Harry was already kissing him.

“Yeah, I-I'd love to,” Harry said, words tumbling into Louis' mouth. “That sounds—Yes.” His mouth faltered for the first time since they'd gotten cozy on the sofa, their rhythm off. “Yeah. Yes, please.”

Louis' eyes curved happily, a smile stretching over his face. He jutted his hips up, kissing Harry's right dimple. Harry's breath exhaled faster against his cheek.

“Bed?”

“Yeah! I mean,” Harry cleared his throat and smiled with his lips shut, Louis' mouth trembling not to laugh, “yes.” Harry laughed and ran a hand through the front of his hair. “Fuck, I'm not playing it very smooth, am I?”

“You don't have to play it anything with me. I won't play anything with you. Playful, but I won't play. You've reached open book. I mean,” Louis finally did laugh, his nose wrinkling. “I'm not making sense again.”

Harry kissed him, their lips only stopping their motions to smile at each other.

“Yeah, but this time,” Harry pecked him quickly, “I can kiss you. Not like last time when you were on a sofa spouting gibberish.”

“Gibberish!?”

Harry giggled and lifted himself. His hands and knees pressed into the sofa around Louis' body, his hair flopping in his eyes. Louis pushed his hair off his forehead and brought their lips together, Harry frozen in place while his spine went molten and Louis' lips molded to his mouth. 

“Remember earlier,” Louis said, Harry interrupting him for a lazy swipe of their tongues, “when I said you should be gentle?”

Harry nodded, humming, “Mmhmm,” against his lips.

Louis nudged their foreheads together, sliding out from under his body.

“I think you should forget that I said that for a couple of hours.”

Harry's brows shot up.

“A couple of hours?” he asked, smiling amusedly. He reached out for Louis' arse, his fingers brushing over his jeans. Louis danced away backwards, unbuttoning his jeans. “I like the way you think.”

Harry stood from the sofa and stretched his arms over his head. He smiled and swayed his hips side to side, Louis' bare feet stumbling while he walked, his eyes on Harry's torso and his mouth agape.

“Like what you see?” Harry asked, draping an arm over his head and pressing on his elbow with his other hand. 

“Normally, I'd say all night, as that's my usual style,” Louis said, regaining some of his footing but his face still slightly dopey. He focused his narrowed his eyes at Harry. “But who knows if that perfect exterior is just a facade.” He pouted his lips forward and wilted his pointer finger, ignoring the thick line pressed from Harry's groin down his thigh beneath his jeans. “And you won't be able to handle me.”

“Oh, yeah?” Harry said, laughing easily, striding towards him with his arms still stretched over his head. “That's what you think?” Louis maintained his cool expression, but his throat bobbed, his nostrils flaring once Harry was close enough to touch. “That I can't handle you?” 

He stepped forward and gripped Louis' hips, pulling him into his body. Louis' arms went around his neck without thought, their lips fusing together, bare feet stumbling along the hardwood leading to Louis' bedroom. Harry gave his arse a firm slap, Louis giggling into their kiss and pulling him by the belt buckle through the bedroom door.

Harry's belt was pulled quickly out of his belt loops. It made a snapping sound in the air, the leather tossed onto the floor and Louis backing towards the bed. He quirked a finger at Harry in a come-hither motion, lowering the zip on his skinnies and sliding his other hand inside his jeans. Harry slapped the lights off and kicked the door shut.

“It's not like I can make you beg with just my fingers, or something,” Harry said, his voice lower; rougher. His hands flattened on Louis' upper ribs. He lifted him just enough off the floor to throw him backwards onto his bed, Louis' smiling eyes blazing as his body bounced on the mattress. Harry climbed on the bed and straddled him, Louis' hands smoothing up his chest. “Of course you'd assume that my cock couldn't do the same.”

Louis slung an arm around his neck and pulled him down, their lips crashing together. 

“Get me naked, please, you're making me sweat like mad,” Louis said, spreading his legs. “Ah, shoot.” He pulled his iPhone out of his back pocket and double clicked the home button, then touched the screen once. “Lemme just...” 

Louis flicked the tiny switch on the upper left side of the phone, Harry's eyes lighting up as he watched the small motion. The phone was now silenced. No alarms or messages to interrupt or stop them. Louis touched the screen and a mix started to play in his bedroom speakers, starting with a Franz Ferdinand song called _Dark of the Matinee_. He dropped the phone on his bedside table, immediately directing his attention back to Harry and kissing him thoroughly, Harry sinking into him with his eyes shut. He had to keep his eyes closed, or else hearts might have tumbled from his eyeballs and made a mess all over Louis' face. 

Louis smiled into their kiss and lifted his bum, Harry tugging his skinnies off. Louis went to do the same to Harry's jeans. Harry broke their rhythm to laugh, his nose bumping Louis' cheek. Louis squinted at him, smiling confusedly and undoing his jeans.

“What's so funny?”

“You'll see.”

Harry lifted up and pushed his own jeans off his hips, Louis squeaking and pressing his hand in the centre of Harry's chest.

“Hello, hello,” Louis said, smiling wider, swinging one leg over Harry's thighs. He eased him onto his back. “Did you come here hoping to get laid?”

“No, I swear, I just--”

Louis brushed his fingers over Harry's bulge, the tight black material stretched taught over the swell of his cock. Harry inhaled sharply and arched his neck, Louis' hand stroking him through the thin material. 

“They're...sexy,” Louis said, tugging his jeans down to mid-thigh. He giggled a bit while adding, “I feel underdressed in my boring boxers, though I suppose we're both underdressed.”

Harry's cheeks coloured as Louis peeled his jeans down his legs. Louis' mischievous smile made his body feel even hotter.

“Of all the nights for me to wear my last pair of pants, it has to be...” Harry watched Louis kiss a circle on his right knee, his hands cradling his calf muscle. Harry breathed out, “Tonight,” and smiled, the careful touches to his shin sending warm tingles up his legs.

He lifted his feet off the bed. Louis rolled his jeans over his right ankle, the tight fabric snagging on his left ankle. When his leg was freed from the material, Louis held onto his left ankle, dropping a soft kiss on the arch of that foot. 

Harry let out a shocked giggle, his hand slapping over his mouth and his leg shooting up in the air. Louis just smiled and held onto his knee, lowering his leg back to the bed and starting a line of kisses up his inner thigh.

Louis pulled his lips off Harry's left inner thigh, just above the back of his knee, to remark, “You've got ridiculously big caveman feet and you're that ticklish?”

“Hey,” Harry laughed, gently kicking his bum. “They're not that bad. You just surprised me.”

“I didn't say they were bad. Not at all.” Louis pulled his pants lower, low enough for his dark hair to be licked, his cock and balls still trapped in the fabric. Harry gripped the duvet beside his hips, Louis sucking an arch over his lower belly. “And now I know how to wake you up tomorrow morning.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry said, giggling softer and propping his right hand behind his head. 

“Yup,” Louis said, kissing his navel. He stopped kissing to hold Harry's hips, his eyes narrowed and his head tilted to the right. “I was thinking of waking you with Gordon Ramsay eggs and a blowie, but my plan has changed.”

“Please, yes, old plan,” Harry moaned, almost louder than he had for any of their other times in the bedroom, his body arching on the bed. He sounded like he felt such exquisite pleasure at the idea of scrambled eggs in bed that Louis had to giggle. “That sounds like heaven.” Harry moaned again, his bicep flexing while he writhed, his other hand pushing his hair back off his face. He smiled slowly. "Heaven, Lou."

Louis felt a matching smile stretch over his face, ducking his head down. He kissed his hipbone.

“I'll think about it.”

Louis dragged his fingernails up the fronts of his thighs and slid them under the legs of his pants, the material just long enough to not be considered briefs. 

“Maybe I should have just gone without pants,” Harry said, shifting his legs on the mattress, his heels sliding on the duvet.

“Always a good option.” Louis nudged his nose against Harry's bulge. “Your legs are so fucking long and gorgeous.”

Louis pulled his pants off fully, Harry's cock springing towards his face in a lazy bob. The familiar sweet scent of Harry's hottest, thinnest skin warmed his nostrils. Louis let out a sigh, dropping a kiss at the base of his cock.

Harry held Louis' face in his hands and guided him higher. Louis slotted between his spread legs, Harry's hands pushing his black boxers off his arse. Harry tilted his head, his gaze swaying from Louis' lips to his eyes. Louis leaned down, his arms sliding around Harry's neck and his fingers curling in the back of his hair, a small smile curving his lips.

“What are you staring at, Harold?”

Harry's open mouth pressed against Louis', both breathing hotly out of their noses and letting their tongues slide together. 

“You're so lovely,” Harry said, voice quiet. The statement evaporated up into the air, the three quiet words projecting themselves over the walls of Louis' bedroom in every font ever created until he had to shut his eyes, his stomach trembling on the inside. Harry let his bottom lip nudge into Louis' mouth, sucking gently on Louis' top lip. Louis shuddered on top of him, Harry murmuring, “So, so lovely.”

Louis moved his hips up, first the right side, then the left, to allow Harry to push the material off, the base of his cock pressing against Harry's groin. Harry's hands molded to his arse, palms rubbing a slow circle before he squeezed, Louis moaning and grinding against him.

Whenever they were naked in the past, their motions were usually quick. Schedules were tight and both focused towards the strongest orgasm possible. But now, pressed nearly naked against each other with their lips joining over and over, the urge to whisper sweet words and indulge in slow, lingering touches was stronger than ever. Surprisingly strong.

“Off,” Harry whispered, pulling Louis high enough to flick his boxers down to his thighs. His lips quirked. “Please.”

Louis smiled at the polite addendum to Harry's command. He could throw Louis around the bedroom one minute, but quietly ask for nudity the next.

“You're so,” Louis said, Harry's fingers barely stroking the curve of his arse. “Do you feel like we...” 

Louis tapered off, Harry's brows twitching together.

“Hm?”

Louis pressed his knees into the mattress and arched his back, lifting his right leg to kick his boxers off. Harry's hands never left his skin, smoothing their way from his arse to his lower back. He couldn't bring himself to look away from the feline curve of Louis' body, his narrow lower back leading to the muscled thickness of his thighs and his round arse.

“Nothing,” Louis said, flattening on top of him. 

Louis kissed the center of his chest with his full mouth, his lips taking more time than usual to pop up off his skin. He tasted the salty sweetness of Harry's sweat, his lips zoning in on his nipples. He swiped his tongue over his right nipple, licking sideways until he reached Harry's upper ribs. Harry's fingers twitched and his arm went tense, Louis' tongue nearly dipping into the curve under his arm.

“What were you going to say?”

“Nevermind.” Louis kissed the front of his throat once on the trip to Harry's other side. “Was nothing.”

Louis sucked Harry's left nipple between his lips, suckling so softly yet biting hard enough to bruise.

“Tell me?” Harry asked, his voice going airy and higher at the end of his question. "Please?"

“Just...” Louis pinched the two smaller raised nubs between his thumbs and index fingers, Harry's chest barreling up towards his sucking lips. “I just feel like when we're together,” Louis kissed between his pecs, fanning his fingers out on Harry's sides, “there's this, like...”

“Crackle?”

Louis' wide eyes snapped up to Harry's face, both frozen in place for a breath. The music was between songs, no sound but their heartbeats pounding in the quiet night air.

“Yes. Exactly,” he said, nodding, saliva shining on his lips. “Fuck,” he exhaled, his voice cracking, fingers involuntarily squeezing Harry's sides. The song _Reflektor_ by Arcade Fire started to play. Every hair on Louis' body stood up straight. “That's the exact word I was thinking. The _exact_ word. Crackle.”

Harry smiled and guided Louis onto his back, Louis' legs spreading to hug Harry's body. Their cocks lined up together, both throbbing and hot between their stomachs. Harry ground against him and their eyes flickered nearly shut in unison, Louis tilting his head back and Harry tenderly biting next to his Adam's apple. Harry let his face rest there and could feel Louis' pulse hammering wildly, both just breathing loud gulps of air for a beat. Louis' fingers scratched Harry's scalp, pushing his fringe backwards, a drop of sweat trickling down Harry's temple.

“Like a live wire,” Harry murmured, kissing Louis softly on the lips. Louis' fingers followed the path of his sweat, the drop of liquid and nimble fingertips barely tickling his skin from under his ear to his collar bone. Harry's throat bobbed with an audible swallow, his widening eyes such a pale green they looked goldenrod. “Like lightning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from my favorite Tegan and Sara song, [ Relief Next To Me ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yftgnkdan8%20)
> 
> Come say hello on [ LJ](http://dolce-piccante.livejournal.com) and [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just over 8k words, which is what I think of as a big chunk of a chapter, so even though technically these next chapters will be split up by number, I wouldn't take those into account for the total number of chapter of the fic. Does that make sense?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much thanks to everyone who commented and left feedback. That totally sets my soul alight! Thank you!
> 
> THANK YOU X100 to [Jess](whitechimes.tumblr.com) for beta-ing this long ass fic and dealing with my crazy brain. She especially was a warrior available at all hours of the day for this chapter, so thank you and much love!!<3
> 
> Thank you also to my sweet D, who is always a source of comfort and support!
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy!

“That was poetic,” Louis said breathily. He squeezed his hand in Harry's hair, guiding his mouth down again, sweet breaths puffed against his lips. “And really hot.”

Their mouths opened together with a hissed suck, Louis pushing his tongue inside, Harry's eyes falling shut. Harry gripped Louis' arse, rubbing his palms inward for deep circles, his tongue matching the rhythm of his squeezes. He pulled his cheeks slightly apart, their lips smacking with each new suck.

“We need lube,” Harry murmured.

“Mmm, yeah,” Louis nodded, “you're right.”

Harry's middle finger grazed between his cheeks and Louis bucked up against him, releasing a soft noise into his mouth. He reached between Harry's legs and wrapped his hand around him, Harry humming and pressing his lips harder against Louis'. Everything felt like it was moving much faster now, though Harry's touches were still easy. 

“We gotta get,” Louis started to say, his voice tapering off.

Harry finished, “Supplies,” for him, but didn't move away, instead letting Louis' arms pull him down for another round of kisses.

One of Harry's hands slid up the back of his upper thigh. He pushed Louis' leg higher to bend at the knee and slid his hand up the back of his thigh, his hand nestling on the warm skin behind Louis' knee. He propped his foot on his shoulder and kissed the inside of his knee before returning to his lips, Harry's body weight pushing Louis' leg closer to his chest. Louis lifted his other leg and propped it on Harry's shoulder, his body bending in half with Harry pressing down on top of him, their lips searing together.

“You're so flexible,” Harry said, lacing his fingers in Louis' hands. “So fucking hot, Lou, Christ.”

He held his bent arms against the bed, Louis' ankles crossing behind his back. Louis' eyes bore into him, the electric blue colour able to overpower the haze of arousal settling in his head. Louis arched and pushed Harry down, his heels digging into his back. Harry bit Louis' bottom lip, his own lips snarling with the bite. 

“We need supplies,” Louis said, removing his mouth from Harry's. He licked his lips and stared at Harry, who was panting hot breaths out of his shuddering mouth, his eyes wide and glazed over, hands still holding Louis' against his pillow. Harry shifted minutely and Louis' eyes rolled back, hot bolts of pleasure shooting through his body. “You're making me so hard I can't think straight.”

Harry loosened his hold and sat up, Louis' legs still hugging his hips. Louis swiped his hand over his forehead, pushing his fringe up and ruffling it. He pulled his hand away and saw sweat shining on his palm, his body already heated and buzzing. Harry's face came into view, his lips kissing Louis' open palm, tongue lapping at the salty skin. Louis looked from his hand to Harry. He seemed to be feeling the same sort of excited, sweaty anticipation, his face glowing.

Louis looped his arms around Harry's upper back and rolled him, kissing his lips hard enough to bruise, Harry gripping the backs of his thighs and humming into their kisses. The head of Harry's cock left a smattering of sticky wetness on Louis' stomach, his hips rolling upwards for even more friction.

“Shit, I keep getting distracted,” Louis said on a breathy laugh. “You're very distracting.” He let his body fall to the side of Harry. “Supplies. Yes?”

“Yes, supplies,” Harry said, nodding and licking his lips. “Supplies. Yes.”

Louis rubbed his fingers in the center of Harry's chest, massaging the divot between his pecs. He raised his eyebrows.

“You? Lube and condoms.” He touched the center of his own chest. “Me? Towels.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Louis scooted off the side of the bed. One foot brushed the floor before he felt his center of gravity shift, the soft mattress cradling his tumble backwards, Harry's arm looped around his waist. He chuckled and landed on his back with one arm flat on the bed. 

Harry pressed a firm kiss to his lips, his thumb rubbing over Louis' cheekbone, his body flattening on top. Louis hummed high and soft against Harry's mouth, his little laugh muffled by kisses, his fingers twitching while Harry ran his fingers along the inside of his wrist.

“Sorry,” Harry said, smiling and pecking the corner of his lips, “wasn't ready to give you up yet.”

“I'm just going to get towels,” Louis said, holding back a giggle, the tops of his cheeks flushing. He nudged his fingers under Harry's arms and Harry laughed, falling to the side and hugging himself. He ruffled Harry's hair and moved towards the edge of the bed. “You crazy person.”

He looked over his shoulder and saw Harry staring at him. His face was relaxed, his brows lazily arched, his weight resting on his elbows behind his back. His legs were spread, his knees bobbing inwards every few seconds, naked and seemingly unbothered. 

“Hi,” Harry said, the right side of his mouth smiling higher, waggling his fingers in a wave.

Louis dragged his gaze from Harry's heavy balls up his torso and finally reached his face. Everything about him was just so big. His round doe eyes. The thickness of his hard cock. The width of his shoulders. The length of his toes. 

“Don't you have a job to do?”

“Um.” Harry looked lost, his eyes jerking side to side, his bottom lip nibbled between his teeth. “To fuck you?”

“I meant lube,” Louis said, amusement vibrating in his voice. “Condoms.”

“Ah, right,” Harry said, moving to sit on his knees. Even the simple motion of kneeling caused his muscles to flex in the most appealing way, as if he was built to be naked at all times. He crawled up the bed, shooting Louis a smile, his cock swaying between his legs. He held both thumbs up. “On it.”

Louis smiled wide and went into the bathroom, rubbing both hands through his hair. His arse swayed side to side, able to feel the warmth of someone watching him without even checking for Harry's eyes. He shut the door and a sliver of light illuminated across the bottom seconds later. Running water could be heard from behind the closed door. 

Harry pulled the duvet towards the bottom of the bed, folding it over enough times so that the mattress was mostly empty, just a tucked in black sheet and Louis' collection of pillows along the headboard. He went to the tall, large window of Louis' bedroom and cracked the navy blue curtains even wider, just enough to let more moonlight spill into the dark room. A rectangle of dissipating light spread over the bed.

He went to Louis' bedside table on the left side. He opened the drawer and found a couple of electronic chargers, none of which fit Louis' iPhone or iPad, headphones and a headphone splitter, three paperclips (silver metal, red, and green), a bundle of crumpled receipts, a coupon for frozen yogurt (twenty percent off your entire order, though the coupon had expired in September), plus a worn copy of Goodnight, Moon. 

The edges of the book cover had started to turn pale brown from the cardboard underneath peeking through the illustration. Harry smiled and opened the book, leafing a few pages in, the paper soft underneath his thumb. Did Louis like to read this book? Or did he read it to one of his younger sisters whenever they visited?

The sound of water stopped from the bathroom and Harry's eyes widened. He hurried to tuck the book back inside and quietly shut the drawer. He got on the bed and crawled to the right side of the mattress, pulling that drawer open. 

There was a tube of some sort of dead sea lotion meant to moisturize hands and feet, plus a tin of lip balm. He wondered if Louis put those items on every night before he went to sleep. Would Louis use those products with him there? Or would he skip a night? What would Louis' mouth taste like with lip balm? Is it flavored?

He blinked and shook his head.

“Forget the lip balm, you crazy person,” he murmured to himself, pushing those items aside.

He found the lube easily enough and took out a few condoms, sorting them in his hands. Louis had multiple sizes. Harry selected a strip of the largest size. He tossed the condoms and lube on his bedside table, replacing the other rubbers in the drawer. He went to close the drawer, but a small white card underneath a set of handcuffs caught his eye.

He pushed the cool metal cuffs aside and picked up the square of paper. He read over familiar words he had said when placing a flower delivery order, his words printed in neat typed letters on the white card stock. The smell of peonies rushed inside his nostrils. 

Harry's throat felt swollen from the inside, but it was not unpleasant or scary like an allergic reaction. It was more like his heart was pounding so loudly that the sound waves from his ribcage wanted a place to get out of his body. He rubbed his thumb over the card, his hand shaking to place it facedown underneath the handcuffs. 

The bathroom door opened as Harry shut the drawer. Louis smiled crookedly at him and padded to the bed, a stack of towels clasped in his hands and covering his groin. Harry brought his body up to kneel on the bed. Louis stepped up and leaned in, kissing under his ear. Harry on his knees on the bed was around the same height as Louis standing on the floor. Harry smiled and let his head fall to the side, Louis kissing down his neck and biting softly on his clavicle. He handed Harry a towel.

“I'm glad you don't think my love of sex towels is weird.”

“Who doesn't love a clean bed and an abundance of clean towels?”

Louis giggled quietly and fluffed a towel over the middle of the bed.

“You'd be surprised.”

Harry fluffed his towel up the center of the mattress. He spread the material out, the bed dipping beside him. Louis' arms wrapped around him from behind, Harry's mouth splitting into a wide smile. Louis kissed the back of his shoulder, kissing to the curve between his shoulder blades.

“How do you want to do this?” Louis whispered, rubbing his nose along the back of Harry's neck.

Harry's eyes moved to the side towards Louis' voice, but he kept his face forwards.

“How do you like it?”

Teeth sank in on the biggest swell of muscle between Harry's neck and shoulder.

“Surprise me.”

Harry smiled and rolled onto his back, the towels soft beneath his bare skin. He propped himself up against the pillows and bent his knees, pressing his feet into the bed.

“You don't have a preference?” Harry asked.

Louis crawled between his legs, hands running up the creases of his thighs on both sides. He dragged his fingertips down his hips.

“Of course I do,” he said before he flicked his tongue at Harry's head, his right hand wrapping around the base of his cock. He smiled and licked his lips, letting them drag over the flushed tip, Harry's face scrunching inward. Louis started to touch himself, Harry's eyes straining to look at both Louis' cock and face at the same time. “But I'm sure you'll find that out in good time.”

Harry picked up the lube. He fumbled it in his hand, the bottle dropping to the bed twice before he managed to get the cap off. Louis chuckled, Harry's head still in his mouth. He pulled his lips off, a wet pop sounding over the building music.

“Very good, Harold.”

“Be quiet,” Harry said, his grumble coming out more like a giggle. Louis started to suck again, long, quick, tight pulls of his mouth over most of Harry's length. Harry's eyes fluttered and his hand squeezed involuntarily, lube squirting over his fingers. “It's very hard to think straight while you're sucking on me.”

Louis pulled off again.

“Don't have to do much here, really,” he said, panting slightly, licking his bottom lip. He sucked quick kisses along the side of Harry's cock, Harry's hips swaying to meet his mouth. “You're hard as fuck already.”

Harry rubbed his fingers together, warming them. He jutted his hips up slightly and hugged Louis with his legs, wet fingers walking down his lower back. 

“I told you. You get me hot all the fucking time.”

“Hot as a comet,” Louis said, jerking him slowly. “And I think we've arrived at fucking time, actually.” He smiled at the sound of Harry's grunted laughter and rested his other hand on Harry's stomach, splaying his fingers over the bumps of his abs. He kissed his hip bone. “My horny little shooting star.”

He couldn't see Harry's face while kissing his hip, but he could sense that his dimples were showing, the muscles of his thigh twitching in Louis' peripheral vision.

Harry's thumb smoothed between his cheeks.

“Let's get you wet.”

Louis hummed and brought himself higher, kissing up the center of his stomach. Harry's hands gripped his waist and then he was rolling, the bed already warm from Harry's body. A slick thumb pressed into him, Harry rotating his wrist, the pad of his thumb stretching the rim of his arse.

“Alright?”

“Yeah,” Louis exhaled, Harry's middle finger easing inside of him. Louis went to flick his own nipple, but Harry's mouth was already there, teeth nibbling the nub and his finger pulsing inside of him. Louis ran his fingers through Harry's hair, moaning softly and watching his mouth suck over his reddened skin. “Gimme another, please.”

Harry smiled against his skin and reached for the lube. He drizzled a bit more over Louis' opening.

“You sure?”

Louis' brows inched together, his lips pursing forward.

“I'm not a porcelain doll,” he said, tightening his grip in Harry's hair. “I can take—Ah!” He shuddered and pushed both hands against the headboard, his neck arching backwards and his mouth agape. He choked out a tight laugh, Harry kissing his groin and pumping his fingers faster. “I think you like interrupting me that way.”

“I think you're right.”

Louis dug his heels into the bed and pulled himself towards Harry's fingers, one arm resting against his headboard. Harry's eyes flickered to his face and found that he was smiling, sweat dotting his temples. 

Harry dripped lube over his cock. He continued fingering him with deep, steady motions, his right hand buried between Louis' thighs. He started to corkscrew over Louis' cock with his left hand. 

Louis groaned, drawing Harry's gaze back to his face. His eyes were shut, his smile growing, his chest heaving a touch faster. He squeezed around Harry's fingers, his hips grinding down to meet his strokes.

“Fuck, that's nice,” Louis said, holding the headboard with both hands. 

Harry swallowed dryly, eyes tracing up and down Louis' bare sides, gaze lingering on the small swells of his biceps, dark, damp hair deepening beneath each muscle.

“Yeah?” Harry replied. He nudged his nose against Louis' lowest rib, mumbling something that sounded like, “Fuck, so gorgeous,” and sucking a kiss to his ribs.

“Mmhmm. You're speeding up with the song, too, which is surprisingly pleasurable on my end.”

Harry started to make figure eight motions with his fingertips, opening his fingers every few strokes. He lowered his face, pressing their lips together. Louis groaned again, softer, his thighs closing inwards. Harry smiled against his lips and stopped massaging him to guide his thighs apart.

“Getting shy on me?”

“It just feels so good, my legs sometimes freak out,” Louis said, the colour of his cheeks growing rosy. He smiled and kissed Harry again, fingers clenching the headboard. “Don't stop, just ignore my legs.”

“How could I ignore them? They're perfect.”

Louis snuffled a laugh and rapidly kissed Harry's lips, three quick pecks leading to a longer, wetter, slower fourth kiss. Harry's tongue licked into his mouth, his fingers strong and firm and confident as they opened Louis up. 

On a particularly perfect press, Louis gasped into his mouth, tipping his chin up and shuddering. Harry's eyes traced each feature of his reaction, from the dark flutter of his long eye lashes to the clench of just his right bicep, his left arm stretching upwards and pushing on the headboard. Even the air he exhaled against Harry's lips seemed to be hotter, his throat rattling for a rough breath in.

“You've never let me see your face when I do this to you,” Harry said, his voice soft. He gently kissed Louis, sucking slowly on his lips. “I...” He smiled and willed his voice to be even. His tone was even softer to add, “I really like seeing your face.”

“You never asked. And your face is usually not,” Louis moved his hand in a circle around his face, “up here.”

Harry jutted his fingers just a bit harder, just fast enough for Louis' eyebrows to quirk, his breath catching in his throat. Louis reached to the side and palmed across the bedside table. He grabbed a condom and ripped the top off with his teeth. Harry's smile grew, slowly stretching over his face while Louis spit the top of the wrapper over the side of the bed.

“Alright, get in me.”

“I'm not done prepping you.”

“No?”

“Nope. You're going to enjoy it.” Harry kissed his cheek and spread his fingers open inside of Louis. “I want to make sure you're comfortable.”

“I hate to break the fantasy, but,” Louis held Harry's face in his hands and batted his eyelashes, “I'm not exactly a blushing virgin.” He smiled and kissed Harry's nose, the condom looped over his index finger and dangling next to Harry's ear. “I know how this works, though I appreciate the effort.”

Harry smiled and sped up his fingers, watching Louis' eyes lose focus after three sharp thrusts.

“I know that. I think it's hot that you know what you like.”

“I have a very high tolerance for pain.”

“Wonderful,” Harry said, his eyes bright. “Excellent to know. I don't want you to feel any pain, thanks, but,” he squeezed Louis' arse hard, “I'll remember that if you're ever in the mood for a spanking.”

Louis moaned and wrapped his leg around Harry's thighs, squeezing him closer.

“You're trying to wind me up, aren't you?”

“I would never,” Harry said, faux-insulted, his eyes wide. He bit his bottom lip and vibrated his fingertips just so, Louis' mouth falling open and his eyes rolling back. “How could you accuse me of that?” He scoffed softly. “As if me spanking you would wind you up.”

“This is so unfair,” Louis gasped out, fingernails digging into Harry's shoulders. “Oh, God, that's so fucking good.”

Harry's breath shuddered over his lips while he chuckled, both kissing wet and slow. He eased his fingers out, wiping them on a towel under Louis' thighs. Louis threw the condom at him.

“On. Now.”

Harry laughed, “Bossy, bossy boy,” but moved off of him, the condom grasped between his fingers. He gave himself a few quick strokes with his left hand. 

“I'm not bossy. I have good leadership skills.”

Harry's eyes flickered at him, soft and mischievous, a small smile on his face.

“Your leadership skills are turning me on.”

Louis grinned while touching himself at the same time, watching Harry's motions, his other hand rubbing along his stomach. He watched the rubber work its way down Harry's length, his thumb and forefinger rolling it with ease.

“I hope you're not disappointed I couldn't help, but I've never been good at the whole putting a condom on with my mouth trick. It would have been boring.”

Harry smiled with his eyes squinted down below.

“Same.” He shifted his hips, his abs flexing. “I can't do the whole cherry stem thing with my tongue thing, either.” He opened the lube and stroked over his cock twice, dropping some of the clear liquid on. His voice dropped even deeper. “How tragic.”

“That's surprising,” Louis said, relaxing on his back. He spread his legs and lifted his bum slightly, propping a pillow underneath. He watched Harry wank and tucked two fingers inside of himself. Was this what Harry looked like when he touched himself at night? Was that his normal speed and preferred tightness? Louis' voice was airy to add, “You're so good with your tongue, I figured that would be old hat for you.”

“Nope,” Harry said, popping the P extra loud.

Harry's extreme care and love of lube proved to be a perfect duo. Louis was slick and hot, practically dripping, but felt strong, clenching around his own fingers. He felt ready and ached for something thicker inside of him. He saw Harry's cock so very close to his arse and his stomach fluttered, his knees spreading wider. 

Harry looked at Louis and shook his head, his eyes somehow seeming far away as they sat on the same bed. He crawled closer on his knees, close enough to smell Louis' skin and feel the heat of his body.

“Fuck, you're just sitting there, playing with yourself,” he mumbled, Louis' smile growing cheekier and his hips doing an extra slow roll to meet his fingers, his stomach muscles clenching.

“Yeah, but, ah!” He gasped and curled his toes, pinching his nipple while his fingers went deeper. “But instead of me doing this alone and imagining you were here, you're actually here.”

Harry swallowed, his jaw flexing with the motion. His eyes bore into Louis' smiling face.

He ground out, “You do that to yourself and think of me?”

Louis laughed softly and extended his leg, his foot rubbing up the top of Harry's thigh. He shrugged one shoulder.

“What can I say? I have an active imagination.”

Harry held onto his cock and crawled between Louis' legs. Louis slid his hands behind his head, closing his legs to bump Harry with his knees. 

He sucked a kiss to Louis' lips, murmuring, “Fucking gorgeous,” and pressing their lips together harder, Louis' arms winding around his neck. 

“Fuck me,” he said, voice raspy but his eyes smiling.

Harry held Louis' hips and lifted him, his cock nestling between his cheeks. A serious look settled on Harry's face. He let his fingers trace over Louis' opening before he gripped himself, the head of his cock pressing into Louis. Louis pinched his arse and kissed his mouth wetly, a smile working its way back onto Harry's face. Harry pushed forward with his full weight, Louis gasping and arching his head backwards, his legs closing tighter on Harry.

“Yeah,” Louis breathed, even raspier. He used one hand to grip Harry's damp lower back, his other hand laced in his hair. He rubbed Harry's back with his palm and let his head relax on his pillow, a smile growing on his face. He brushed their lips together and jutted his body down as Harry thrust in. He whispered, “That's it.” 

Harry's wide eyes were fixated on Louis' throbbing pulse, his hips giving a few experimental thrusts at a slow tempo. Harry pulled almost all the way out and Louis' lower body made a slurping sound, Louis gasping again and digging his heels into Harry's arse.

“Jesus Christ,” Harry said thickly, his mouth latching onto Louis' neck. Louis shuddered out a laugh, the resulting vibration making Harry moan and snap his hips faster. “Fuck—So tight.” A bead of moisture fell from Harry's forehead into Louis' hair. His fingers dragged over Louis' wet scalp, pushing his hair off his forehead as his tongue licked hot lines along his pulse. “Fucking hot.”

Louis opened his eyes and looked over Harry's shoulder, Harry mouthing up and down his neck while his hips found a faster rhythm. Each thrust caused Harry's back muscles to curve up and slightly to the left, the same direction Harry seemed to favour while pushing himself deeper into Louis. The backs of his thighs twitched in rhythm with the roll of his hips, the muscles of his arse clenching each time his balls slapped against Louis' skin.

Harry hitched Louis up with an arm under his lower back and thrust faster, a low grunt exhaled out of his nose.

“Yes, fuck,” Louis said, holding Harry's arse with both hands. Harry smiled into a kiss and moved his hips even faster, Louis' body bouncing upwards with each thrust. “Fucking yes, just yes, Harry--” Louis held onto the headboard and pushed himself down, breaths turning to seconds that morphed into minutes until Louis laughed out a loud, “Fuck, Harry!” His fingernails dug into the wood while he laughed again, Harry grinning down at him. “Oh, God--Fucking—Fuck, yes!” 

The bed creaked louder underneath them, Harry's teeth blazing down at Louis before he bit at his lips, Louis tilting his head to suck his tongue into his mouth. Their bodies writhed together for fast, quick motions, a tornado of limbs and saliva and sweat.

“You like it faster?”

“I like it fun. I like it hard,” Louis said quickly, digging his fingernails into Harry's mid-back. Harry held onto the headboard and started to slap his hips against Louis, Louis' eyes rolling to the ceiling and his mouth stuck open. “You're—You're doing a—a--a decent job, I guess—Oh fucking God!”

Harry laughed, the sound especially raspy, and asked, “You guess? You're calling out to God and you guess?”

Louis held the back of Harry's head and pulled his face down, their lips making a snapping sound when they broke the quick kiss. He gave Harry's arse a gentle slap and lowered his legs. 

“Switch,” Louis said, eyes curved into smiling half moons. 

Harry slowed down, pouting, his hips still moving for gentle, fast thrusts.

“But it feels so good,” he panted, the slow in tempo causing fresh sweat to bead along his hairline. He stopped his lower body and pressed his fingers around Louis' rim, though he still asked, “Why are we stopping?”

Louis grunted on a long note, holding his legs still while Harry pulled out. He flexed his feet and wiggled his toes, his palms putting gentle pressure on the center of Harry's chest. 

“Roll, please,” he said.

Harry smiled, his dimples showing he was smiling so wide. He fell onto his back and pulled Louis onto his body, Louis smiling and sliding his legs over his hips. He gave a small bounce, his smile growing.

“Ah ha,” Harry said knowingly, getting comfortable and wiggling into the mattress. Louis fingered down his chest, stroking along the beads of sweat that dripped over the sides of his ribs. “How did I know this would eventually happen?”

Louis said nothing. Instead, he simply smiled, gripping the base of Harry's cock and looking behind himself. His lips pursed forward while he tried to sit on Harry. His first attempt ended with Harry's cock sliding sideways, Louis' pout becoming even more pronounced. The second time, he lifted himself a touch higher before sinking down, the different angle causing Harry's head to slide inside of him, Louis' face relaxing in a smile, his eyes shut. 

“You good?” Harry asked, his tone tight and his stomach flexing even tighter under Louis' palm.

“Yes,” Louis said, lifting himself up before sinking down again, Harry's neck arching backwards. 

“Good,” Harry grunted, every nerve in his body standing on edge. He exhaled shakily and pressed the back of his head into his pillow. “Oh, God. Fuck.” He shuddered and took two quick breaths, a smile licking at his lips.

Louis rubbed his hands up Harry's chest, scratching the fronts of his shoulders and digging his fingers into his pecs, Harry rock hard inside of him. Louis giggled softly to himself, body still moving up and down while Harry tried to breathe. Louis cupped Harry's cheek and leaned over, biting the front of his throat and sucking hard. Harry hissed through his teeth, his hands scrabbling to find Louis' arse.

“I hope you took your vitamins today,” Louis said, opening his mouth on top of Harry's. 

Harry asked “Why's that?” and kissed him again, squeezing his arse. He mumbled, “Fuck me, you're so sexy,” as an afterthought.

Their lips parted and Louis sat up straight, his hands still touching Harry's chest. Louis smiled down at him and started to rock.

“You'll see.”

Like someone getting used to the pace of a mechanical bull, Louis let his body sway whichever way it wanted while he lifted himself up and down, his thighs flexing with effort and Harry's hands gripping his hips tight enough to bruise. 

The visual of Louis sitting so proudly on top of his cock was hot enough for Harry, but the feeling of his body taking him inch by inch, the fact that he felt so incredibly tight but so perfectly wet, made his eyes go hazy. Louis squeezed each time he lifted himself, the extra pressure only making Harry's body chase him every time, the dents of Harry's hips flexing faster and faster.

“Fuck,” Harry said, barely able to get the word out. Louis pinched his nipples and slid his hands into his hair, rolling his body faster. “I knew you'd be able to ride.”

“That why you've been writing sonnets for my thighs?”

“Sonnets, poems, haikus, whatever you fucking want,” Harry said quickly, bending his legs. The fog over Harry's brain cleared until he could feel everything, the searing pull of Louis' body to the teasing touches that seemed to be gracing every inch of his body. Louis held onto his wrists and pinned them beside his head, speeding up his bounces. “Whatever you want, Lou, whatever you want.”

Louis let out a short, barked laugh.

“I like your attitude.”

Harry tried to pull his arms down and Louis growled, pressing them into the mattress and slamming their lips together. 

“Wanna touch you,” Harry said before he was kissed hard again, his chest heaving with uneven breaths. “Please let me touch you?”

Louis released his wrists but kept his hands on the pillow beside Harry's head, bracing himself while his lower body ground against him.

“You even beg pretty,” Louis said, smiling with just the left side of his mouth. “Gimme your hand.”

Harry lifted his right hand and Louis bent his head slightly, lathing his tongue over his palm. He gave his middle finger a firm, wet suck from base to tip, his mischievous eyes never leaving Harry's stunned face. He kissed the pad of his finger.

“You're inside of me and a bit of finger sucking makes you go dumb?”

Harry gripped Louis' cock with his right hand and started to jerk him, pulling his lips away just enough for Louis to have to lean forward, their mouths barely brushing together. His left hand slid down Louis' lower back, his palm squeezing his arse before he let his fingers lightly stroke the stretched skin of his entrance.

Louis fell forward with a sudden moan, the sound pained and short, his face pressed into Harry's neck. Harry was so beautiful underneath him. So open. He was all long, muscled limbs and drops of salty moisture leaving trails down his elegant neck. He seemed to be getting harder and harder, landing with even more precision on Louis' prostate the faster he went.

“You like that?” Harry whispered lowly, using his thumb and middle finger to touch either side around Louis' entrance. Louis moaned again, shuddering on top of Harry so fast that Harry's entire body throbbed, the base of his spine bursting with heat. Harry licked his own palm and gripped Louis' head, massaging underneath with his thumb. “Like feeling where I'm splitting you open?”

Louis exhaled what sounded like a whimper, but the sound was swallowed as soon as it left his lips, Harry's tongue drawing circles inside his mouth. The sweetness of his mouth made Louis' body clench around him, Harry humming and breathing fast to break their lips apart. Louis gripped Harry's hair and sat up slightly, his hips resuming their breakneck pace.

The full body tingles both felt were so strong that Harry's hands started shaking while he wanked Louis off, Louis unable to say anything but throaty moans. His legs still hugged Harry's hips, his arse bouncing on his cock faster and faster until Harry threw his head back, his rib cage expanding, a long, loud moan of, “Fuck, Louis,” vibrating out of his open lips. His chest heaved wildly and his hips starting to grind upwards.

Louis tightened his grip on Harry's hair.

“Come,” Louis said, his voice deep but breaking on the single word, the word practically an order. “You're close.”

Harry rasped, “You first,” digging his fingers into Louis' hips, his eyes clenched shut.

Louis started to rotate his hips in fast, clockwise circles, his face drenched but a knowing smirk curving his lips. 

Harry's eyes popped open at the new sensation. His gaze burned into Louis' face. Louis' eyes were wild, his hair darker than usual and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Louis held onto Harry by his hair, fingernails scratching his scalp while he writhed on top of him. Harry's mouth gasped and struggled to take air into his lungs, his stomach muscles clenching rhythmically. 

He wrapped his hands around the tops of Louis' hips and grit his teeth, his lips snarled slightly. He used his thumbs to press into the front of each hip bone, his large hands guiding Louis' rotating hips on a slight downwards tilt. 

“Fucking fuck! Oh,” Louis exclaimed on a guttural moan, his head flopping forward. He kept up his pace with both hands bracing himself on Harry's chest, Harry guiding his bounces for even deeper, harder slams against his prostate. “Oh my fucking God!” 

“Fuck, Lou, you're so fucking--”

“Harry--”

“I can't--”

Louis' fingernails drew lines of pink over Harry's nipples. 

“Harry! Fucking, fuck!” 

Harry's sweaty chest barreled under his hands, his head snapping backwards on the pillow to reveal the long line of his throat. Louis leaned down and kissed his jawline, both breathing shakily and panting to keep up. Harry's mouth snagged Louis' lips, both inhaling loudly through the biting kiss. They started to suck into another tongue heavy kiss, but Harry gasped, “Fuck, I'm--”

His hips stuttered upwards and his thumbs dug into Louis' skin, his mouth stuck open on a silent scream. Once Harry started to actually scream, a deep, long shout with his full throat, Louis' eyes rolled back in his head. 

His body clenched around Harry's cock, almost painfully so, but he still ground down against him. He could feel Harry shoot into the condom, hot and strong and pulsing against his prostate, but the full body rush of heat caused any other sensation to pale in comparison.

He could feel Harry jerking him through his orgasm, the pull of his warm, slick hand bringing Louis' back down to reality. When he felt like his body was no longer on fire, he slowly opened his eyes, his body swaying on top of Harry. He watched Harry lick the shining corner of his lips through half-lidded eyes, his thumb massaging the last of Louis' come into the tender head of his cock.

“Jesus Christ,” Louis croaked, collapsing on top of Harry. He lifted himself enough to let Harry's cock slide out of him, his cock wilting to the side but still partially hard. “Just...Fucking hell, Harry.”

He held either side of Harry's neck and pressed their lips together, the slight bitterness of Harry's lips confirming what he thought he saw. Harry hummed deeply and let his tongue slide into Louis' mouth, both attempting to breathe with their lips attached and their bodies still buzzing. 

“Were you an equestrian in another life?” Harry asked, his voice deeper and more rumbly than usual. He rubbed his palms up Louis' back, wrapping him in his arms. “An Olympian?”

Louis smiled and let out a light laugh, his nose rubbing against Harry's. Harry exhaled a half-laugh and let his arms flop over his head, a lazy smile spreading across his face. 

The warm, sweet smell of Harry's skin was distracting. The shine of his tender skin made Louis want to drag his tongue over every inch of him. The sides of his heaving abs. The curved skin beneath the light brown hair under his arms. The divots of his biceps. Every spot made Louis tingle with pride, his mouth watering. 

He reached across Harry's body to open his bedside table. Harry kissed the salty, wet skin of his collarbone, humming as if he was eating a bowl of vanilla ice cream. Louis laughed while Harry gnawed on whatever part of his body was near his mouth, which mostly was his neck and earlobe. 

Louis pulled out a handful of cleansing wipes and looked over his shoulder, using it to remove Harry's condom. He cleaned himself up a bit and then bunched that wipe in his hand, using another wipe to give Harry's groin a quick swipe. Harry's thighs twitched and he breathed a little faster, but he relaxed and stretched his arms over his head after the initial shock of the wet wipe.

“You're a genius,” Harry murmured. Louis smiled and tossed the wipes into the bin underneath his bedside table. “A cleaning genius.”

“Those things are magic, I swear,” Louis said, snuggling back on top of Harry's chest. He pressed his nose into Harry's neck and inhaled deeply. “I quite like this part.” Harry hummed to agree, rubbing his foot along the back of Louis' calf. “God, you smell so good.”

He flattened his hand beside Harry's head on the pillow, kissing along his inner bicep. He could see Harry struggling not to laugh aloud, his lips twitching upwards and his nose wrinkling every few kisses.

“There a problem,” Louis let his thumb push into the flesh just beside Harry's nipple, nearly under his right arm, “Harold?”

“No, no problem,” Harry said, giggling and flexing his arms. He prodded Louis' foot with his toes. “You've just found my number one spot on the ticklish spectrum.”

“Just found? I found it ages ago.” Louis kissed the front of his shoulder, his eyes lit mischievously. “I'm just merciful and let you think I didn't know.”

Harry laughed while smiling wide, the sound a pleasant, low vibration in the center of his chest. He relaxed, wiggling his fingers in their spot propped behind his head. Louis pressed his chin on top of Harry's left nipple, both smiling at each other for a beat. One of Harry's hands moved to Louis' face, fingertips dragging down the back of his neck. Louis' eyelashes fluttered downward, his smile growing. He looked back up and found Harry to still be smiling at him, his eyes soft and satisfied. 

“I can't believe you said I was lovely,” Louis said, kissing the inner curve of his shoulder.

Harry said, “You are,” as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“If I'm lovely, then what does that make you?”

“Lucky.”

Louis smiled against his skin and rolled onto his back, his head pillowed by Harry's bicep. Harry shifted onto his side, wrapping an arm around Louis' middle and tangling their feet together. He pulled him closer, their bodies touching from their toes up to their stomachs, Harry cradling Louis' lower back.

“You're like,” Louis started to say softly, his brows inching together. He studied Harry's face, took in all of his features at such a close distance. He thumbed his cheekbone. “You're like...Beyond lovely.”

“Beyond lovely?” Harry said amusedly, his eyes crinkling.

“Yeah, it's like...It's like you're somehow as gorgeous out here,” he flattened his hand on Harry's cheek, “as you are in here.” He touched the center of his chest, his expression borderline puzzled. “I don't quite know how it's possible.”

Harry licked his lips and swallowed, his heart pounding under Louis' palm. 

“I think you're the only...” He smiled with his lips closed, his eyes bright and his fingers tracing up the top of Louis' wrist. “I mean--I'm possible. And, um, thank you. For the,” he shrugged and smiled wider, dropping his gaze, “gorgeous comment.”

Louis smiled and pushed his hair off his forehead, stroking his hair for a moment. Harry's eyes watched as Louis stretched his toes towards the end of the bed, the motion causing his calves to lengthen and bulge. He brought his gaze up his thighs and to the center of his body. He reached out, gently touching the soft hair at the base of his cock.

“Louis?”

“Hmm?”

Harry's hand pushed Louis' cock to rest on his belly, fingers stroking along the underside ever so lightly. Louis' cock twitched beneath his fingertips, his stomach shivering inward.

“Are you tired?”

Louis hooked his right leg around Harry's hip and guided him on top. Harry flattened between his legs, smoothing his hands up his sides to reach his chest.

“Do I feel tired?”

Harry kissed his right nipple and shook his head.

“You feel amazing,” Harry said, curling his hand around his cock. He sucked on the curve of his neck and murmured, “You feel hard.”

“You're making me hard.”

Something about the pacing and simple phrases of their conversation was making Harry throb, his mouth desperate to suck or lick any part of Louis that he could. Louis' fingers carded through the back of his hair, Harry humming and opening his lips to suck on his collarbone. 

Louis said, “Come up here, please.”

Harry chuckled and kissed his way higher, finding Louis to be already smiling at him once he reached his face. Louis draped an arm over Harry's lower back, his other hand still laced in his hair. He opened his mouth and tilted his head to accommodate Harry's lips, Harry's lips slotting between while they both smiled. Louis scratched the back of his hair, giving the back of his neck a good scratching, too.

Harry murmured, “When you talk so politely, it makes me think of you in your work clothes, and then I get, uh,” Louis gripped Harry's cock and raised his eyebrows, Harry laughing out, “yes. Exactly.”

The corners of Louis' mouth curved upwards. His eyes shimmered underneath the moonlight blanketing the bed.

“You get hard thinking of me in my work clothes?”

“It's the professional thing or something,” Harry said, kissing him wetly between words. “Dunno.” His brows furrowed. “Something about you being responsible yet a bit of an animal in bed.” Louis stopped sucking on his lips to laugh high in his throat, his face flushing pink. He rubbed his hands over Harry's chest. “It's a compliment,” Harry said on a giggle. “The contrast gets me going.”

Louis lightly dragged his fingernails along the darkened lines of raised skin over Harry's pecs.

“It does sort of look like you were attacked by a bobcat or something.”

Harry lowered his voice to growl, “You animal, you.” 

“We're both so sweaty, I think it's only natural to push through and fuck again,” Louis said, massaging the tops of Harry's shoulders. “Think of it like hot yoga.”

“Sounds good to me.”

They started to kiss for longer beats of time, Harry's hands smoothing up and down Louis' chest, Louis drawing circles along the muscled flesh of his lower back. Harry held onto the sides of his thighs and pulled him down the bed, his low grunt making Louis' fingers dig into his skin.

Louis' voice breathed into the thick air, “Will you hold me down this time?”

“Christ, these straight forward questions of yours are going to kill me,” Harry said quickly with wide eyes, Louis giggling and dragging his fingernails lower to Harry's arse. He bit at Louis' neck, lathing up to his jawline. “Fuck, Lou.”

Louis panted, “What were you going to say before?” 

“When?”

“Just before.” Louis let his head fall to the side, Harry kissing the fresh drops of sweat along his neck. “You said something about me being the only. The only what?”

“Nothing,” Harry said, kissing up to his lips. “Don't worry about it.”

Louis nodded and said, “Okay,” before bringing their lips together. He held Harry's face in his hands and kissed him again, their lips sliding together for a loud suck. His eyes sought out Harry's face. “You don't have to tell me.”

Harry exhaled out of his nose and pressed his forehead to Louis' cheek.

“It's silly.”

Louis smiled, his stomach bouncing with a laugh underneath Harry. He reached to the side and got another condom.

“Alright. You don't have to tell me.” He offered him another easy smile, his hair sticking up in every direction on the top of his head. “Do you know where the lube ended up? We bounced around a lot.”

“It's just...” Harry leaned over the bed and found the bottle of lube. He lifted himself back up and flattened on Louis, Louis' legs automatically hugging him. “I just...” He squinted slightly for just a beat. “What you said about me. It was...” 

Harry's lips twitched up into a growing smile, his eyes lighting up. 

He continued, “I've had a lot of really good sexual experiences. I can't say that I haven't.” Louis' eyebrows rose in such a way that didn't convey judgement; more like warm understanding. “But I've never been with someone who...Who is so...” Harry shook his head side to side, laughing to himself. “I've never gotten that particular compliment. So, it just...” 

Harry watched Louis thumb the dip of his throat, his eyes dragging back to Louis' neutral, calm face. 

Quietly, Harry said, “You're the only one to think that. Or notice at all. And I appreciate it. You saying it. Especially coming from someone as amazing as you are.”

Louis' hand lowered to land on his chest, his palm rubbing a slow circle in the center.

“About here?”

Harry nodded his reply, his head jerking with the motion.

“I meant it,” Louis said, walking his fingers up to Harry's neck. He laced his fingers in the hair behind his ear, pulling his fingers along a group of wild, damp curls. Softer, but with no less conviction, Louis added, “I did, Harry.”

“I know you did.”

Louis smiled and lifted his face to kiss him, just a simple peck of their lips before Louis let out a soft giggle, his fingers playing with the wilting front of Harry's hair. Harry smiled along with him, the muscles of his upper back releasing, Louis kissing his chin and each corner of his lips. Harry smoothed his hands up Louis' arms, linking their fingers together on top of the pillow behind Louis' head.

“I need to write Mr. Craig a thank you note,” Harry said.

Louis pulled back and blinked slowly, his tongue dragging over his own lips. 

“Who is Mr. Craig?”

Harry grinned.

“The inventor of Craigslist.”

Louis could not stop the loud laugh that wracked his body, his lower back arching off the bed and Harry laughing against his cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AMAZING fanart for this chapter [here!](http://mybeanieandme.tumblr.com/post/121087300320/you-like-that-harry-whispered-lowly-using-his)
> 
> Title is from my favorite Tegan and Sara song, [ Relief Next To Me ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yftgnkdan8%20)
> 
> Come say hello on [ LJ](http://dolce-piccante.livejournal.com) and [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com)


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're still in bed, but not necessarily doing bedroom activities *all* the time. Just over 7k words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and feedback on the last chapter! <333 So glad people are still enjoying this. Sorry I'm late! 
> 
> Thank you as always to the wonderful [Jess](whitechimes.tumblr.com) for her incredible patience and help and fast eyes and ability to deal with my crazy emails. She is a wonderful beta/person/everything, so thanks so much! <3
> 
> Thank you to my boo D, who is always such a supportive, kind person. Much love!
> 
> Enjoy! :D

“Are you going to fall asleep on me?”

“No, just need—Just need a breather,” Louis said, panting and shaking on his stomach. “Just a moment. Just...” 

His head felt like a cavern, the sounds of skin against sheets and hurried breaths and whimpered moans echoing around loud enough to drive him insane in the best way. Harry's lips brushing over the back of his neck brought him out of his mental cavern. 

Louis whispered, “God damn,” and smiled with his eyes shut. 

Harry's hands slid down his lower back to smooth warm circles over his arse cheeks. Those hands held Louis down and fucked him so fiercely that he could still feel Harry inside of him, even after collapsing on each other nearly thirty minutes previous. Louis didn't know how Harry could quietly chat about the best food colouring to use in frosting one minute and then not let Louis budge an inch while getting fucked through the mattress the next.

Lips nibbled along the back of his ribs, Harry's kisses moving side to side at random. Harry gently squeezed his hips and Louis giggled, bending his right leg to press his inner thigh into the mattress. 

“Aren't you the one who usually teases me for dozing off?” 

“I don't mind when you doze off,” Louis said with his lips stuck to his pillow, his eyes still shut and his voice barely audible. “Adorable snore and sleepy face and all.” 

Harry smiled against the base of his spine, letting his forearms slide under Louis' stomach. He squeezed for a beat, rubbing his nose along the upper curve of his right arse cheek. His cheek melded with Louis' lower back, his eyelids growing heavy. Louis reached behind himself and stroked Harry's hair. Harry's lashes fluttered on his skin, goosebumps rising from the delicate sensation.

“You're so warm,” Louis said, the speed of his fingers slowing. 

Harry lifted his face and used his feet to push himself up the mattress. He kept his arms around Louis' middle, his body curving around his back to press their skin together. 

“This okay?” Harry asked. As a reply, Louis' feet slotted between his own, an uncontrollable smile bursting onto Harry's face. “You want me to pull up the blankets?”

Louis hummed and gripped Harry's forearm, pulling him just a touch closer and placing Harry's hand on his own chest.

“Nope.”

Harry nudged his face into the curve of Louis' neck, both settling down and breathing softly. Louis lifted Harry's hand to his face and rubbed his knuckles over his cheek, curling around Harry's arm. Harry smiled, exhaling a small laugh over Louis' neck. He rubbed his palm over Louis' chest.

“You're good at being the little spoon.”

Louis chuckled.

“That's what Zayn always says.”

Harry's eyebrows furrowed, his palm halting on Louis' chest.

“What? You spoon with Zayn?”

“Not frequently, but it has happened,” Louis said, shrugging his shoulders. He kissed Harry's knuckles, pressing his thumbs into his palm and massaging slow circles. “Liam, too.”

“Hmm.”

The deep hum of his voice caused Louis to look backwards, smirking and tapping his fingers against Harry's forearm. He quirked an eyebrow.

“Jealous?”

Harry's face relaxed into a smile, faint blush colouring his cheeks. He shook his head and pursed his lips, kissing Louis' bare shoulder.

“Not jealous.” He kissed the lowest curve of Louis' neck. “Just trying to form a visual in my head.” He squinted at Louis. “Were either of you naked at the time?”

“No, I reserve my naked cuddle sessions for people who I coitus.”

Harry tightened his arms around Louis, replacing his face in his neck. He hummed, “Mmm, coitus,” and rubbed Louis' stomach, smiling at the feeling of toes brushing over the arches of his feet. “Good to know.”

Both took a breath in unison, Harry's cock resting snug against Louis' arse, Louis squeezing his forearm. The playlist from Louis' iPhone continued to play in the background. 

Harry felt on the brink of falling asleep, his lips pursing while he rubbed his nose behind Louis' ear. The smell of his sweat was sharper on that particular part of his body, his hair still damp. Louis squeezed his forearm again, his squeeze a touch weaker but his thumb rubbing the tawny skin on the underside of his wrist.

“God bless you, Harry Styles.”

“I...didn't sneeze?”

“I know. I just meant that,” Louis licked his lips and swallowed dryly, also on the cusp of sleep, “if there is a God, I'd like to thank him or her for you. For your body. For your foreskin. For your dick.”

Harry threw his head back to laugh, loud and deep in his belly, the sound causing Louis to giggle into his pillow.

“Wow, what romantic words.” He kissed the back of his neck, gently kicking his feet. “I'm glad you're in this for my body and my dick.”

“Well, there are other parts of you I enjoy.”

“Yeah?” Harry kissed the middle of his shoulder blades, his fingers dragging down Louis' front while he kissed lower on his spine. “Like what?”

“Like...Your tongue.”

Harry's tongue flattened on the lowest bump of his spine, teasingly close to his still throbbing arse. 

“You up for a hat trick?” Harry asked, dragging his nose down Louis' lower back. “Only if you're comfortable.”

“Yeah,” Louis said on an exhale, Harry's thumbs spreading him open. Louis bit his bottom lip, reaching beneath his body. He wrapped his hand around himself, trying to remember to breathe while he started to palm over his head. He gave himself an easy pull, blood rushing in his ears. “Whatever you want.”

Harry's voice was conversational to say, “You know, I'm actually feeling a bit...Peckish.”

Louis smiled into his pillow, knowing all too well what was going to happen next. Even knowing that, he still inhaled sharply and clenched his toes at the first lick, Harry's tongue circling the slightly sore skin of his opening with reverent, wet strokes. His cock twitched in his hand, his opening puckering under Harry's rhythmic licks. 

“This alright?”

“Y-Yeah,” Louis said, shivering slightly. He pressed his knees into the bed and ground backwards, his hips slowly circling against Harry's tongue. “God,” he moaned, smiling into his pillow. “You're so good at that.”

“I'm gonna take my time fucking you,” Harry murmured ever so quietly, sliding both hands underneath Louis. Louis only half heard what he said, but it caused him to clench around Harry's tongue, his body shivering again. Harry pulled his hips up slightly, his tongue breeching deeper inside. “Take it real slow. You like that idea?”

Harry's question was not actually a question, more like a statement to prompt Louis into speaking words.

“Yeah,” Louis rasped, his hand bumping Harry's while he worked over his cock. “I need something inside me.”

“My fingers?”

“I prefer your cock, but if you don't put something in me soon, I'm going to do it myself.”

Harry chuckled lowly and kissed his opening. The sound of the lube cap popping open caused a visible shiver to race up Louis' spine, the muscles of his lower back practically vibrating.

Louis sucked a breath in before asking, “What do I taste like?”

Harry kept licking for a few seconds, the smooth scrape of his tongue of on Louis' skin the only noise in the room. 

“Sort of like cinnamon,” Harry finally said, licking his lips. “A bit bitter.” His tongue was back on Louis' arse. “Strong. Spicy.” Louis face felt on fire, Harry punctuating each statement with a long lick. Harry kissed his left cheek. “Sex and cinnamon.” He sucked on his rim, letting his tongue slide inside. Harry breathed, “Perfect,” and Louis whimpered, spreading his legs wider.

“You really like it?”

“I like you.”

Louis' breath caught in his throat, his hips bucking backwards and his hands clenching in the sheets.

“Fuck, Harry,” Louis gasped, his cock swollen and leaking against his stomach. “Yeah.”

Harry's nose exhaled a shaky breath against his arse, his tongue dipping between his cheeks to muffle his moaned, “Louis.” 

Harry pressed his middle finger in beside his tongue, Louis letting out a high groan and grinding into the bed. Harry swallowed and tried to focus, which was growing increasingly difficult when he was throbbing against the mattress and Louis' everything—his scent, his taste, his heat—was overwhelming him. 

Harry lifted his face, letting his fingers barely brush the small lump inside of Louis, almost in a tickling motion. Louis moaned nonsense and tried to push himself up by his feet, but Harry's arm held him in place.

“Was that yeah a reply or just a noise, Lou?”

“An answer,” Louis said, almost on a sob. He gently kicked Harry's side, Harry looking up his back to find his face. Louis smiled and bit his bottom lip, eying the glaze over Harry's swollen lips. He softly said, “I like you.”

Harry's mouth stretched wide, his arm squeezing Louis without realizing it. He kissed Louis' arse cheek, unable to stop a small giggle from escaping. The song Breathe On Me by Britney Spears came on the playlist.

Harry pressed hard on his prostate and Louis' eyes opened wider, his body arching on the bed.

. . .

“I can't...I can't believe you got me to come at the climax of the song,” Louis said deliriously, sprawled face down on Harry's chest, sweat from his hair dripping into the dip of Harry's collarbone. “To a Britney song.”

Even just murmuring caused his throat to feel sore. His most recent orgasm was slow to build, but all of Harry's patient teasing led to a body shaking, limb flailing, uncontrollably wild surge of sobbed moans while he came buckets against his stomach kind of orgasm.

Harry dragged his fingertips between his shoulder blades, his legs spread wide and his other arm looped over Louis' lower back. 

“It was on your playlist. It's your own fault.”

Louis giggled, shivering along with the bubbly sound.

“True. And it's a good song, so I guess it worked out.”

Harry's chest bumped up to exhale a choppy laugh. Louis pulled the duvet up to their stomachs, Harry's legs shifting around under the duvet. He gripped Harry's shoulders.

“On your belly,” Louis said.

Harry opened his eyes to squint at him.

“I need a breather.” He held up one finger, his voice still uneven with his panted breaths. “Just a short one, I promise.”

Louis smiled crookedly, his hair matted to the left side of his head, fresh sweat trickling down his neck.

“Not for that. Just roll.”

Harry attempted to roll onto his stomach, his limbs protesting and burning. He groaned aloud, but landed heavily on his front, his eyes lulling shut. He took a deep breath in and blew it out of his lips, sleepiness weighing him down. 

Louis' hand flattened between his shoulders, his palm lowering to gently press down his spine. Louis straddled his bum and reached to the right, pulling open his bedside table.

“If you're gonna cuff me, my safe word is fondant,” Harry mumbled, a smile curving his lips.

Louis laughed softly and squeezed him with his thighs.

“Not quite. Good to know, though.”

He drizzled oil over Harry's broad back, the faint scent of warm amber mixing with the heavy smell of sex that dominated the bedroom. The benefits of living with a massage therapist.

Harry groaned again, softer, his smile widening. He extended his arms above his head, his palms flat on the mattress and his arm muscles lengthening. He turned his head on the pillow to rest his cheek flat.

“You spoil me, Lou.”

Louis' thumbs dug in on either side of his lower spine, pressing up to behind his ribs, prompting another low groan from Harry, one of Harry's feet lifting off the bed.

“You deserve a reward after all that,” Louis made an easy humping motion with his hips, “thrusting.” Softer, he commented, “And you're so fun to spoil. It's kind of terrifying how much I like it.”

Harry just hummed, his muscles like putty beneath Louis' fingers. 

Quietly, Harry murmured, “Spa night is my favourite night.”

“Is it?”

Harry tilted his face and looked back at Louis, half his smiling face hidden in pillows.

“And you're my favourite person.”

. . .

“Let's have a shower,” Harry said, his voice nothing more than an exhausted rasp. “You've gotten me fucked, sweaty, sleepy, and, now, oily.” He nuzzled the back of Louis' head, his nose sucking in as much Louis scented air he could. Louis nudged back against him, the duvet wrapped tight around their bodies. “I'm officially gross.”

“Mmm. You are.”

“Hey,” Harry laughed, prodding Louis' tummy.

Louis laughed lightly and squirmed in his arms, their sweaty skin sticking together. He settled down, Harry drawing circles around his navel. He pulled Harry's hand away from his stomach and spread his fingers out. He traced along the thickest line on his palm, Harry kissing the back of his neck.

“I'm gross, too,” Louis said on a sigh, Harry's hand curling around his own.

“Shower?”

“That means we have to get up.”

“But then we can go to bed afterwards.”

“Hmm. True.”

“Do I have to carry you to the shower?”

Louis laughed, “No,” and shook his head, turning in Harry's arms. He pecked his lips suddenly and Harry's eyes popped out of his head. “Whoops,” Louis said, laughing again. He wiped his hand over his mouth. “Cinnamon, eh?”

Harry watched Louis' torso stretch when he pushed himself off the mattress. Louis stood up on wobbly legs, stretching his arms over his head. He groaned and arched side to side, his back popping audibly. Harry licked his lips and knelt on the bed.

“Come along,” Louis said, holding his hand out.

Harry gripped his hand and stepped off the bed, his knees knocking. 

“Woah, hello, gravity,” Harry said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He sat back down and extended his legs in front of himself, rolling his ankles. He smiled up at Louis. “You got me so relaxed that I forgot how to use my legs.”

“Ah, shit, Liam's always making his clients drink water after a massage,” Louis said, holding both of Harry's shoulders. “Are you okay? Do you want some water?”

“We're going into a shower.”

Louis gently tugged the back of his hair.

“Ha ha.”

He stepped back from the bed and Harry put his feet on the floor, pushing himself into a standing position, Louis' hands holding his shoulders the entire time. Harry ducked his head down, pressing kisses to Louis' jawline. Louis smiled, reaching around Harry towards the bed. He pulled the duvet down to the bottom.

“I'll clean up a bit in here, but you go ahead. Get started in the shower.”

“I can help.”

Harry pulled a particularly sweat drenched towel off the bed. He folded it in half before handing it to Louis.

“I think that one was yours, you beast,” Louis murmured, softly, but not soft enough for Harry to miss it. Harry smacked a towel against Louis' arse, both laughing. “Do you want something to sleep in when you get out? Sweats or something?”

“I sleep naked, for the most part.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

Harry smiled and handed Louis the final black towel.

“But I'll take a pair of shorts, if you don't mind. Just incase we get an unexpected visitor in the form of one of your flatmates.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Louis said, stuffing the towels under his arm. He used his other hand to open a drawer, digging through. He pulled out a pair of black athletic shorts and offered them to Harry. “Like these? They might be a little short on you.”

“They're perfect. Cheers.”

Harry took the shorts from him and Louis left the bedroom. As he walked naked to the laundry room, he realized that he hadn't checked his phone for hours. He'd usually be able to hear Liam and Zayn come into the flat, but maybe he missed their normal sounds while he and Harry were busy doing other things. 

He tiptoed through the dark living room, looking for a set of keys or someone's jacket tossed on the kitchen table. None of those items were there and the flat was quiet. Louis breathed a bit easier, walking normally for the rest of the trip to the laundry room. 

He tossed his towels into an empty basket and brushed his hands together. On the way back, he stopped in Liam's bathroom for a quick piss. He washed his hands and swiped his fingers over his body, checking for any stray fluids.

“All good,” he said to himself, flushing the toilet.

While in the living room, he gathered their trail of shoes, clothing, and hats that led to his hallway. He went back to his part of the flat and could hear the shower already on. He pulled his bedroom door shut.

He dropped Harry's boots and socks near his closet. He opened the door and pulled out a hanger, placing Harry's plaid shirt on it and hanging it on the outside of the doorknob. He placed his own clothing in his laundry hamper and left both of their hats on top of his chest of drawers.

He went into the bathroom, Harry scented steam puffing over his face. He saw Harry's arse through the foggy glass, the smooth line of his spine pronounced even when under a stream of pounding water. Harry turned towards him and took a step to the left, opening the door.

“Hello there,” he said, smiling with foam in his mouth. He brushed the back of his tongue and stepped to the side, Louis' feet glued to the tile floor. Harry tried to keep his toothpaste in his mouth to ask, “Are you coming in?”

Louis willed himself to look away from Harry's wet stomach or the darkened hair below his navel or the way water raced extra fast when moving down the center of his pecs. He moved to the sink and grabbed his toothbrush, popping it into his mouth. He stepped inside the shower and took his toothpaste off the top shelf built into the wall, Harry shutting the door behind him.

“You brush your teeth in the shower?” Louis asked, smearing paste on his brush.

Harry spit on top of the drain, shielding his mouth with his hand. Louis smiled around his brush, rotating the bristles over his back teeth.

“Sometimes. It makes my mouth feel extra foamy,” Harry said, rinsing his brush under the shower water. 

He placed his brush in a green plastic cup Louis couldn't remember leaving on the top shelf. Then again, he couldn't remember moving his toothpaste either.

Louis smiled and spit, purposely spitting some toothpaste on Harry's feet. 

“Hey,” Harry laughed, sticking his foot under the water. He swapped feet. “You're gross.” 

Louis finished his teeth and plopped his brush in the cup, Harry pulling him under the water before Louis could even lower his arm.

“See, this is why shower sex is a myth,” Louis said, sputtering water out of his mouth. “I'd drown. You're tall, so you'd survive.”

Harry laughed and rubbed his hands through Louis' hair, water spraying all over.

“That was to get you back for the toothpaste. We will properly fuck in a shower if it's the last thing I do.”

“Imagine that?” Louis asked, taking down Harry's shampoo. He squirted a generous amount in his hand. He plopped the shampoo dollop on Harry's head, making light circles over his scalp and working it up to a lather. “Dying while having sex?”

“It happens,” Harry said, his voice half there. His eyes lulled shut, his body swaying towards Louis. “I've read about it. Or people breaking dicks because they have sex so hard.”

“Oh, God. I think I'd rather die, to be honest.”

“That's horrible,” Harry laughed, now rubbing shampoo into Louis' hair. “You'd rather die than have a broken dick?”

“Can you imagine the pain of it? Ugh.” Louis shuddered violently, soap suds plopping off his hair to land on his shoulders. Harry rubbed his shoulders, smoothing soap suds down to his outer biceps. “Terrifying.”

They pushed past the disturbing mental images of broken dicks and finished up their shower rather quickly. It was especially quick compared to almost every other shower they had shared. 

“You look tired,” Louis said softly, toweling Harry's chest. He dabbed the sides of his neck, Harry's heavy eyes tracing his motions. Harry smiled and leaned down, brushing a kiss to his mouth. Louis smirked up at him, his own white towel barely hanging on around his narrow hips. He looped Harry's towel over his shoulders. “Did I tire you out to your liking?”

“Yes, you did,” Harry said, voice especially low. He yawned, his hand pressing over his lips. “Sorry. I'm awake, I promise.”

Louis kissed the center of his chest, dragging his fingers down his stomach.

“Bed?”

“Didn't you say that earlier?”

“I did,” Louis said, kissing a slow line up the left side of Harry's neck. “But we got a bit...” He let his teeth close over his earlobe. “Distracted.”

“Mmhmm. You're very distracting.”

Louis smiled and walked backwards, just out of Harry's reach. He moved off to the right on light feet. He opened his chest of drawers and pulled out a pair of black boxer briefs. He walked back to the bathroom door and stood with his back against the frame, Harry walking past him, their chests bumping.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, eyes darting from the boxer briefs to Louis' foot on the bathroom floor to Louis' face. “What happened to bed?”

“I just need to do my final night stuff,” Louis said, shuffling sideways around Harry, smiling at the ground. “I'll be quick.”

Harry's arm encircled his waist, pulling Louis in for a quick, but firm, kiss. Louis smiled wider.

“You taste like toothpaste,” Louis said, Harry pecking his lips.

“Hurry up and come cuddle with me.”

“Okay, okay,” Louis prodded his stomach, “I'll be there in a minute.”

Louis smiled at him before he quietly shut the door. Harry turned towards the bed, took two steps, and paused. Which side would Louis prefer he sleep on? He tried to remember whenever they had been in bed. Whenever they were laying around afterwards, Louis tended to take the left side of the bed, the side closest to the bathroom door. 

Harry fluffed his duvet over the bed and adjusted the mussed pillows. He wiggled his bum to drop his towel, tossing it in Louis' laundry hamper. He picked up the black athletic shorts and lifted his legs one by one. He pulled them low on his hips, the hair of his groin just about showing along the waistband.

He smelled himself, just a quick sniff under each arm, then got under the covers. He used his fingers to comb through his damp hair, willing his fringe to stay in some semblance of a style. The bathroom door opened and Harry's eyes widened, his hands dropping to rest flat on the bed. 

Louis smiled from the bathroom doorway and clicked the lights off, his black boxer briefs resting low on his hips. He adjusted his glasses on his nose.

“Alright, all done.”

Harry blinked rapidly, looking upwards to reach Louis' face.

“I hope it's okay that I took this side,” Harry said, itching his feet together under the covers. “Do you have a preference?”

“No. You chose wisely.” Louis turned his playlist off and plugged his iPhone in to charge, placing it back on his bedside table with the screen down. “Also, I'm probably going to just spread out over you once I'm asleep, so it won't matter.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

Louis pulled a pale grey fleece blanket out of the top of his closet. He shut the door and walked to the bed, Harry watching the blanket flutter from the air onto the mattress. Louis' eyes met Harry's.

“Incase your feet get cold,” Louis said softly.

Harry pushed the duvet lower on Louis' side, his hand resting on the mattress.

“I think I'll be okay tonight, but thank you. Very thoughtful.”

Louis ruffled his own hair, kneeling on the edge of the bed. He took his glasses off and placed them next to his iPhone. He plopped on his bum and slid his legs under the blankets. Harry pulled the duvet up to Louis' ribs, their bodies rolling towards the middle of the bed. They bumped chests, both letting out surprised, breathy chuckles. Then there was silence, no playlist or moans or bed frame creaks to fill the quiet night air.

“Hi,” Harry said, his arm looping over Louis' middle. He tilted his head and nudged their knees together, Louis' fingers lightly circling his navel. “Can you see without your glasses?”

Louis flattened his hands on Harry's face, palming his nose and cheeks, his eyes widening.

“Who are you and what have you done with Harry?” he asked, putting a shake in his voice. 

Harry smiled and kissed his thumb as it passed by his mouth. 

“You're a very convincing blind man.”

“I can see up close, it's distances that give me a bit of trouble.”

“I see.”

Louis looked down the bed, his hand resting on the side of Harry's neck.

“Am I crowding you?”

“Not at all,” Harry said, shaking his head. “I'm quite comfortable.”

Louis' lips spread into a slow smile, his face coming closer until Harry could kiss him, their tongues barely brushing. Harry moved to lay on top of him, one arm cradling the back of Louis' head, this other arm tucked beneath Louis' lower back.

“I'm glad you like kissing,” Louis murmured, his nose resting against Harry's cheek.

“Same.” 

“I hope you can forgive me.”

Harry's dreamy gaze attempted to focus, but Louis' swollen lips proved too difficult to neglect for more than an entire sentence. He sucked on Louis' bottom lip, tilting his head and deepening their kiss, able to feel Louis inhale and arch up under him, their lips sliding together.

“For what?” Harry asked, voice nothing more than a rasp.

“For not kissing you sooner.”

Harry smiled slowly, thumbing Louis' cheek. Louis lifted his face for another kiss, which only made Harry smile wider.

“I kind of like that we did this backwards.”

Louis' eyes twinkled up at him, his hands rubbing over Harry's arse.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. It was kind of...I dunno,” Harry said, laughing softly. Louis kissed his chin, nudging his head lower to kiss the soft skin of the front of his neck. “It was, mmm, nice.”

“It was. I think...” Louis thought for a moment, kissing a circle over Harry's neck. “I think I waited the longest to sleep with you out of anyone. Like, ever.”

“Really?” Harry said on a dramatic gasp. “With your vast history?” Louis gently slapped his arm and Harry laughed, pulling Louis into a cuddle. “I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Besides, who am I to talk?”

“I know. It's kind of funny, though.”

“How so?”

“Like, I know you best compared to anyone I've ever had sex with. Yet, for some reason, I didn't mind waiting. I like that I knew you before we took that step,” he squinted and shook his head once, “which is sort of out of character for me. Sort of really out of character.” 

“I think...” Harry smiled and tilted his head. He sucked once on Louis' bottom lip. “I think I'm the same. I am the same, actually.”

Louis smiled, rubbing his hand over the outside of Harry's bicep.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You're the longest for me, too. The longest I've waited to sleep with someone.” A flicker of pride mixed with cheekiness lit Harry's eyes. “I usually don't have to wait at all.”

Louis' smile remained on his face, but his fingers faltered on Harry's bicep. He recovered quickly, dragging his fingertips higher to stroke Harry's collarbone. 

“I figured,” Louis said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

“Figured what?”

“That this was a normal occurrence for you.”

Harry was slow to ask, “What?”

“Sex,” Louis said on a laugh, thumbing his chin. “Having sex with a lot of people. A lot of sex with a lot of people.”

Harry's throat pushed out a confused laugh, his eyes widening.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know. The whole attraction thing. How everyone's always attracted to you.” Louis stretched his arms over his head, pointing his toes. They bumped into Harry's ankles, his right foot sliding between Harry's once he finished stretching. “It's totally fine. I get it.”

Harry pushed himself up on one forearm, his eyes suddenly serious.

“So, you think I sleep with everyone who is attracted to me?”

Louis' eyes widened, his face shaking minutely side to side. 

Harry added, “That I want to kiss and hold everyone who's attracted to me?” and Louis' stomach dropped to his formerly relaxed toes, red hot embarrassment racing up the back of his neck.

“No, no, not at all! I mean, not every--I didn't mean it that way, I swear,” Louis said quickly, his words tumbling out of his mouth. He pushed himself up on his arm to meet Harry's hard gaze, his other arm wrapping around Harry's waist. Louis' eyes darted side to side over his face. “You look angry and I've never seen you look anything less than pleasant and I don't know how to deal with this. You look really handsome when you're angry, by the way,” the corners of Harry's mouth twitched ever so slightly, “but I didn't mean to imply anything or judge or upset you. Not at all.”

Harry's pokerface melted, a smile emerging.

“I know,” he said, stroking the center of Louis' chest. Louis swallowed, holding his stare for a beat. Harry's smile grew and his eyes regained their normal twinkle, his hand smoothing up to Louis' neck. “I was just playing with you.”

Louis exhaled and fell onto the bed, rubbing his hands over his face.

“That was scary.” He peeked through his fingers. “Angry Harry is both scary and arousing. ”

“Aw,” Harry murmured, brushing Louis' hands off his face to kiss his left cheek. He kissed his nose, which wrinkled under the kiss, and then moved on to his right cheek. “Don't be scared. You didn't wound me too deeply.”

Louis gripped Harry's hair.

“But I didn't mean to offend you at all. I thought that because you look the way you look and are the way you are, that you'd have no problem getting laid.”

“I know what you meant,” Harry said, kissing Louis' lips to quiet him. He kissed him again, thumb brushing over his cheek bone. “I know you didn't mean to offend. I'm just winding you up.”

Louis shook his head, his lips flattened in a straight line.

“Maybe I should cuff you after all.”

Harry laughed, settling his head beside Louis' on the same pillow. Louis' hand molded to his cheek, both leaning in for a slow, easy kiss, their lips lazily sliding together.

“Just to let you know,” Harry whispered, Louis' breath puffing in quick bursts over his lips, “I don't do this,” he gestured between them, “with many people. At all.”

Louis' eyes found his, their lips brushing again. He swallowed and let his face tilt into Harry's warm palm.

“You don't?”

“I don't,” Harry said, shifting to lay on top of him. He held Louis' face with both hands. “Not this. Definitely not. I'm not trying to lay it on thick, but I want you to know that you're...” His dimples deepened, his gaze unwavering. “You're really special, alright?”

Louis snuffled a soft laugh against Harry's lips.

“Special?”

“You are. You're special and I...” Harry's cheeks warmed, his lips trembling over his words. “I dream about you. I think about you. A lot. I think about you when I'm at work and I destroy batches of cookies. Pans of pastries. I swap salt for sugar, almond extract for vanilla.”

“Is that a big thing?”

“Depends on the pastry, but I'm usually very careful. Until you came along.”

“I've been drawing you at work,” Louis said quickly. “Just a few sketches here and there, but you might be the unofficial wrist model for the newest Rolex mock-ups I drew. You have elegant nail beds and masculine knuckles.”

His mouth closed up and his eyes popped wider, the words coming out before he was mentally prepared to release that information. Harry smiled and nudged his nose against Louis'.

“You draw?”

“Sort of.”

Harry's eyes went even wider and more vibrant green.

“You draw me?”

“I know, that's so weird and creepy--”

“It's not, it's really not.”

“But. Yes. I do. And I think about you, too. A lot.”

After that tennis match of information, both took a calming breath in, fresh sweat searing every inch of their bare skin together. Harry swallowed, his throat bobbing with the motion. He stared at Louis, cupping his face. 

“I know you usually do the straight forward statements, but I'm going to be really straight forward with you right now.”

Louis nodded, his eyes locked with Harry's.

“Okay.”

“I like you,” Harry said, even and smooth. “I didn't expect for us to go from a one-off, to friends with benefits, to actual friends, to this.”

“This,” Louis repeated, his voice surprisingly normal while the cotton candy machine in his head set itself on fire.

“Yeah, this,” Harry said, smiling wider. “Whatever this,” he touched the center of Louis' chest, “is with us. I wasn't expecting it.” He blinked slowly, his lashes swooping. “You. I wasn't expecting you when I emailed a stranger a picture of my cock.”

“I wasn't either,” Louis said softly, his voice raspy. He smiled and flattened his hands on Harry's lower back. “I don't know where you came from or why you came to me, but I can't imagine a time before it happened.” He let out a frantic, breathy laugh, squinting. “Isn't that crazy? It's like I can barely remember whatever happened in my life before,” he waved one hand in a circle in the air, “whatever day that was in January.”

“January fourth,” Harry said. 

Louis' brows rose, his smile growing more amused by the second. Harry shrugged his right shoulder and pressed a kiss to Louis' neck, Louis able to feel him smiling against his skin. 

Harry quietly whined, “What? I have a knack for remembering dates.”

“January fourth,” Louis said, pulling the blanket up to Harry's shoulder blades. “Wow. It'll be three months we've known each other next weekend.”

“Should I get you an anniversary gift?”

Louis laughed, his laughter causing his chest to vibrate against Harry's body, his head tilted back.

“Yeah, sure. A golden bottle of lube. A diamond encrusted condom. Or maybe you can bake a pair of edible underwear.”

Harry's laugh came upon him so suddenly that his mouth stretched almost as wide as his entire face, his stomach aching from the quick bursts of air vibrating out of his mouth.

“Oh my God, Helena would die,” Harry said, still laughing, tears brimming in his eyes. “I'm just imagining a chocolate chip cookie nappy,” that image sent Louis into louder belly laughs, “and you waddling around while I follow you and bite your arse.”

Louis' voice skyrocketed before he went silent, his arms wrapping around his own stomach, his mouth stuck open and tears streaming down his face. Harry's laughter quieted to giggles, his thumbs rubbing over Louis' wet cheeks.

“Actually,” Louis said, softly laughing the word. “I have an idea of what we could get each other.”

“Does it involve confetti?”

“Not officially, but I'm sure we could work it out.”

Harry propped his head up on his hand, grinning down at Louis' flushed, relaxed face.

“What's the idea?”

Louis wet his lips, his tongue just barely sliding out of his mouth while he licked.

“The clinic I go to has an amazing selection of ice lollies once you're done giving blood. We could...” He kissed the corner of Harry's lips and whispered, “Go. Together, I mean.”

Harry's gaze looked from Louis' mouth to his eyes, a slow smile shared between them.

“I see.”

“It's just an idea.”

Harry said, “It's a wonderful idea,” quickly, Louis nodding just as fast.

“I haven't been with anyone but you since my last test.”

“Same with me.”

“But, just incase,” Louis said, slowing and trying to catch his breath, “we could just get tested and then we can...”

“Yeah,” Harry breathed out, just before he mashed his lips to Louis', his arms encircling his lean body. Louis groaned softly into his mouth, his fingers settling in the back of Harry's hair. “I love that idea.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmmhmm.” Harry pulled back slightly, Louis licking his lips again. “Ice lollies and popping a vein with you? Sign me up.”

“I figured you'd be more into it for the bareback, or the confetti, but if ice lollies float your boat,” Louis shrugged, “so be it.”

“I'm into it because I want you. I want to be with you. Only you.”

Louis smiled wide and propped his hands behind his pillow, his biceps flexing with the motion.

“Fuck, you're right,” Louis said, stretching his back. He wrapped his legs around Harry's thighs. His toes were trembling, the pulse of his neck pounding faster. “Straight forward statements really are hot.”

Harry grinned and shook his head, his eyes warm.

“Did you even listen to what I just said?”

“I did, I did. And...I agree.” His nose crinkled while he smiled, his eyes curved half shut and his feet rubbing the backs of Harry's knees. “I want you,” he said, lifting his face to kiss Harry. Harry met him halfway, nudging his bottom lip into Louis' mouth, his nostrils exhaling a relieved breath as they kissed. Louis' voice dropped to repeat, “I want to be with you,” before he pressed their lips together again, both humming into their kiss. He cupped Harry's jawline, his fingers trembling almost as fast as his toes. He let their lips brush while he said, “Only you,” Harry's mouth opening on top of his own. 

Harry breathed out, “I don't want to pressure you,” his eyes scanning every inch of Louis' face.

“You're not,” Louis said, lacing one hand in Harry's hair. He scratched his scalp until the concerned darkness of Harry's eyes evaporated. “I figured you'd want to just...Keep it casual. Keep your options open.”

“Maybe. In the beginning. We had so much fun.”

Louis smiled sleepily, curling Harry's hair around his index finger. He rolled Harry into his back.

“Had?” Louis teased. He smoothed Harry's hair off his forehead, gently pecking his top lip. “I'm not fun anymore?”

Harry chuckled, “You are,” and flattened his hand in the center of Louis' lower back. He gave him an ever softer kiss. “Of course you are. I just meant...We were having so much fun that I didn't want to scare you away, you know? I'm not looking to make our lives more serious or stressful.”

“On what planet would you ever make anyone's life more stressful?”

“I don't know. I have no idea what I'm doing here,” Harry said, letting out a throaty, choppy laugh. He leaned into Louis' touch and laid his face next to him, breathing out shakily against his cheek. “I don't usually do talks like this.”

Louis' sleepiness spread to his eyes, his lids blinking slower. His smile was smaller, but somehow more private, his weight leaning heavier against Harry. 

“You're doing a really good job,” Louis said, his lips twitching higher upwards. He kissed Harry's cheek, his eyes falling shut for a beat. “I'm glad you're able to articulate my thoughts for me, since I'm half asleep.” Harry pulled the duvet higher on his shoulders, smoothing the material and wrapping his arm around Louis' back. Louis' mouth barely moved to murmur, “And you're actually a gifted cuddler.”

Harry smiled, his own eyelids starting to sink lower.

“I'm glad you think so.”

“Will you wake up early tomorrow? Like, automatically?”

“Probably.”

Louis hummed softly, nudging his nose into the crook of Harry's neck with his body half on top of his bare chest, his hand still stroking the back of Harry's hair.

“I want you to fall asleep first,” Louis whispered.

Harry took a few seconds to realize what Louis said, his eyes moving under his closed lids. The exhaustion of all their activity caught up with him, the pleasant burn of his muscles stretching through his entire body and pulling him into comfortable darkness.

“Why?”

“Wanna hear your snore.”

Harry's lips quirked, his arm tightening around Louis' shoulders. 

“Do you snore?”

Louis did not reply. Instead, he made a quiet breathing noise from his place on top of Harry's chest, his body limp. Harry smiled and opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. He fell fast asleep to the feeling of Louis' soft fingertips twitching just under his hairline, even softer breaths rhythmically exhaled against his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be an Interlude, meaning it will jump scenes. Just a warning! Thanks for reading :)
> 
> Title is from my favorite Tegan and Sara song, [ Relief Next To Me ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yftgnkdan8%20)
> 
> Come say hello on [ LJ](http://dolce-piccante.livejournal.com) and [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com)


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I lied, and this little chapter will not be an interlude, but a prelude to an interlude (which sounds crazy). Just over 5,000 words. Texts are in bold/italic, flashbacks are in italic, which I hope is clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! It has been a while and I truly apologize for that. Thank you for all the sweet notes and messages y'all have sent me. They are always very much appreciated.
> 
> As I mentioned on tumblr, I am posting this chunk now, instead of holding onto it until the next big chunk is done. If you're looking for car chases and major action, maybe skip this chapter and wait for a future chapter ;) because it isn't the most high energy bit. 
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you to [Jess](whitechimes.tumblr.com) for being so supportive and patient!
> 
> Thank you again to all the readers, y'all are so generous and kind. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Harry breathed in deep through his nose, stretching his head to the left on his pillow. His toes wiggled against the duvet, his palms sliding sideways along the cool mattress. 

When he hit warm skin, he smiled with his eyes shut. He palmed over Louis' hip and looped his arm around him, the tips of his fingers tucked into the waistband of his boxerbriefs. Louis' feet curled between Harry's ankles, his lips slapping together. 

Harry pressed himself against Louis' back, Louis humming in his sleep and nudging his head backwards. Harry's lips brushed over his neck while Louis pulled the duvet higher on their bodies. 

Louis gripped Harry's forearm and cuddled his cheek against his hand, both still blissfully asleep.

. . .

The bed underneath Louis shuddered ever so slightly, the motion jerking him out of a deep sleep. He nudged his nose against something warm and tawny, breathing in deep and stretching his neck. His cheek slid over a gentle hill and landed on top of a bony curve.

Something about the sweet smell unfurling in his nostrils made his eyes move under their lids, desperate to stay asleep in this sweet, cozy wonderland. Soft fingertips started to stroke over the back of his neck.

“Did I wake you?”

Louis let Harry's voice, rumbly and deep, marinate over his body for a moment. He swallowed again and shook his head, his nose rubbing the lowest curve of Harry's neck.

“No.”

“Mmm, gruff in the morning.” A kiss was dropped in his hair. “I like.”

Louis pulled the duvet higher on his back, a smile starting to spread across his face. He rubbed his cheek against warm skin.

“How are you so chipper?” Louis cleared his throat, his voice rattling around the base of his neck while Harry's raspy voice seemed to flow like honey. “We just fell asleep.”

“Internal bakery clock.”

Louis cracked one eye open. He brought his gaze up the front of Harry's sleep-sweaty neck. He studied his full lips, still pillowy from the night before. His one eye caught Harry's soft, amber-hued gaze, his smile widening so much the corners of his mouth tingled.

“How long have you been awake?” Louis asked, licking his dry lips. He shut his eyes and curled his body around Harry's torso. “S'early.”

“Not long.” Harry's fingers dropped beneath the blanket to stroke between Louis' shoulder blades. Louis couldn't control the soft sigh of pleasure he puffed out of his mouth. “Long enough to learn you don't snore. Not a proper snore, at least. You do these little kitten huff things and hum a bit.”

Both of Louis' eyes opened to stare at him, though he was still squinting, his weight balanced on his forearm pressed into the mattress. Harry's hair caught the light and glinted like woven bronze, wild waves a halo around his sleep softened face.

“Were you watching me sleep?”

Harry's lips arched into a slow smile, his eyes twinkling even in their half shut state. 

“Yeah,” he said, his smile growing. “A little.” He held up his fingers and nearly touched his thumb and index finger together. “Just a bit.”

Louis laughed breathily and shook his head, his hand lacing in Harry's hair. He pushed himself higher by flexing his feet into the mattress. He pressed his lips to the tip of Harry's chin, pecking him there once and then kissing higher on his jawline with a more lingering, hummed pressure.

“At least you're honest,” Louis said, settling his face back in Harry's neck. He took a deep breath in of sweet skin and sighed it out. “Honest and,” he dropped his voice, “a total lunatic.”

Fingers gently dug in just above Louis' hip, where his side curved inward. Louis laughed and pushed his hand away. The sound was loud and bubbly in the peaceful bedroom, their fingers tangled together against Louis' ribs. 

Then the room went quiet. Louis bit his bottom lip and smiled at the sunlight streaming through his window, the pad of Harry's thumb rhythmically rubbing over his knuckles.

“Good morning,” Louis whispered, his eyelashes brushing Harry's skin. Harry pressed his lips to his temple, kissing down to his cheek. “Didn't say that yet.”

Harry used his free hand to push against the headboard, pressing his body down the bed to bring them eye level. Louis' hand slid up the underside of Harry's arm to curl around the back of his neck.

“You have the prettiest eyelashes,” Harry's voice breathed, warm air rushing over Louis' cheekbone. He and Louis locked eyes, Harry's fingertips lightly dragging down the side of his neck. “Prettiest everything.”

Louis smiled and exhaled a silent half-laugh, his nose wrinkling. Harry let his nose brush against Louis' before tilting his chin down, pressing his lips to Louis' smiling mouth.

“I have the grossest breath right now,” Louis said through tight lips, smiling wider despite his attempts to keep his lips closed, Harry kissing the corners of his mouth. “Like spoiled milk kind of gross. Not pretty.”

Harry let out a dramatic groan mid-kiss and pressed their lips together firmer, prompting Louis to giggle and open his mouth, Harry's tongue swiping inside for a quick lick.

“I was thinking more like warm marscarpone,” Harry said, biting his bottom lip thoughtfully, “but I suppose that's kind of similar.”

“You're such a chef,” Louis said on a sigh, twirling his fingers in Harry's hair. He heard a gurgling sound from under the duvet and smiled, fondness surging through every inch of his body. Louis rubbed Harry's stomach, Harry's smile going a touch lopsided. “You hungry?”

Harry kissed underneath his jaw, pressing his lips into the fleshy skin above his throbbing pulse.

“Always,” Harry said, his voice deep and morning raspy.

Louis smiled and wrapped one leg around Harry's hips, a warm palm working its way down the front of his boxer briefs.

“I meant for breakfast,” he said, groaning his words. His body lifted to meet Harry's soft kisses down the centre of his chest. “Ramsay eggs or—Or--” His breath hitched, Harry's hand slipping inside his pants. Louis bit his bottom lip and squeezed Harry's shoulder, arching upwards. Harry gripped his hardness, lathing licks with the flattest part of his tongue down to Louis' navel. “Not sex.”

Harry smiled up at him, the duvet draped over his hair like a crown of fabric. His features looked smoother and softer, younger somehow. Sunlight filtered through the fabric, caressing his sleepy eyelids and the gentle curve of his lips.

“Can't we do both?”

“Hmm, I guess,” Louis said, managing to sound bored while Harry peeled his pants down his thighs, Harry tossing his boxer briefs off the bed as if he was flicking a bit of lint off a sweater. He tangled his fingers in Harry's hair, Harry pressing slow, reverent kisses along his left inner thigh. “Maybe it'll tire you out and we can go back to sleep.” He gave Harry's hair a gentle squeeze. “Like normal people.”

Harry chuckled lowly, his lips sending vibrations through Louis' body. Louis traced the shell of Harry's ear before he scratched his scalp, Harry's eyes glowing up at him. His hands slid up the fronts of Louis' hips.

“Good morning, by the way,” Harry said softly, thumbs drawing circles over Louis' ribs. The tiny particles of fluff in the air seemed to mirror his slow circles, specks of brightness surrounding them. Harry's smile widened, his tongue darting quickly over his bottom lip. “I, um, I've been...Uh...”

He ducked his face down, barely letting his smiling lips brush the downy hair at the base of Louis' cock. Louis' hand guided Harry's face upwards. Something, whether it was the warmth of Louis' eyes or his hair sticking up in odd directions, or maybe the feeling of his toes rubbing softly along the back of Harry's thigh with his smile so relaxed, made Harry squeeze his sides. 

Harry gripped the sheets on either side of Louis' body and pulled himself up, giving Louis a fine view of his biceps and triceps and whatever other muscles Harry possessed in his upper body all flexing at once. The distracting sight caused Louis to hum in surprise when Harry kissed him on the lips, whispering, “Good, good morning,” and nudging their foreheads together. 

Louis let his eyes shut, his arms winding around Harry's shoulders.

“Been waiting a while to say that to me?” Louis whispered, Harry's teeth shining in a sudden smile, both of their faces flushed. Louis tapped the back of Harry's head, hugging him with his thighs. “I guess I forgot to mention I'm a mind reader.”

“The cannibal and the mind reader,” Harry said, widening his eyes dramatically. “Sounds like a book or something.”

“A really filthy, graphic book,” Louis said, his smirk melting into a wide smile. He cupped Harry's cheeks and tilted his head to the side, letting their lips press together. “Hopefully with equally filthy illustrations.”

. . .

“You want breakfast, babe?”

Zayn's mouth barely moved to murmur, “Why are you up?”

“I was thinking of going for a run before we do errands,” Liam said, sliding both legs into a pair of baggy blue sweats. “Do you want to come? Weather's great today.” 

“Ugh.”

Liam pecked Zayn's cheek.

“Understood. I'll bring you tea in a bit.”

“Love you,” Zayn said, holding out the word _you._

Liam tiptoed out of his bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him. He turned towards the kitchen and padded down the hallway, his black socks sliding on the hardwood.

"Morning," he said with a smile, his voice lower than usual. He scratched the back of his neck, his sweats riding low on his stomach. He sat down at the kitchen table, his eyes nearly shut while he smiled. He folded one leg to sit on his foot. "Good night?"

"Yeah, was alright.” Louis pushed a plate closer to Liam, his other hand holding his iPad upright. He was dressed in black joggers and a loose grey tee, a mug of coffee steaming on the table next to his wrist. “I found a couple of scones, if you're hungry. Chocolate chip.”

“Yes, please,” Liam said, breaking one in half. He stuffed a piece in his mouth and let out a soft groan, chewing slowly. “Mmm, fuck,” he bit off another bite, “are these fresh? Jesus Christ. Thank God for Harry's culinary influence.” He swallowed, licking his lips. He rubbed his hand over the front of his throat. “Ugh. I'm definitely feeling last night today.”

“How was Chandelier?"

"Oh, it was sick. We missed you guys.” Liam licked his lips and reached across the table. “Niall took us to some after hours party thing and we met this girl Claire he's dating or whatever. “ He sipped Louis' mug of coffee. “She's absolutely insane,” he said with liquid still in his mouth, “but she hooked us up with scotch that was so good,” he swallowed, “I don't know if Zayn will ever wake up.”

“Nice,” Louis said on a soft laugh, scrolling faster. “Claire is a character, for sure.”

“What are your plans for the..."

Liam trailed off. Harry emerged from Louis' bedroom hallway. Though he was dressed in a shirt and jeans, his plaid shirt was unbuttoned and his feet were bare, his hair curlier than usual. Liam raised his eyebrows, noting the placement of light pink lines on the skin of Harry's chest. Navy blue boxer briefs peeked out from the top of his tight skinnies. Louis didn't move a muscle, his posture solid as he read on his iPad, his hand wrapped around his coffee mug.

"Oh," Liam said, eyes widening. He smiled, smoothing his bedhead. "Harry. Hey.” He glanced at Louis. “Didn't know you were here."

Harry gave him a little wave, smiling shyly.

"Morning."

He bent over at the door, dropping his socks and boots. Liam jumped up from the table.

"Coffee? Toast? Scones?"

"Nah, I'm good, thanks," Harry said, smiling again and rubbing the back of his hand over one closed eye. He picked up one bright yellow sock and slid it over his foot. "Tired, but good."

“Did you, uh,” Liam's eyes darted from Louis' neutral face to Harry's small smile while he put his shoes on, “what's...What are you up to today?”

“I've got to meet my mate Ed for lunch, which you all are welcome to join, if you'd like. Then I've got to do laundry.” Harry zipped up the side of his right boot with his leg bent horizontally across his thigh. “Didn't get around to doing it last night.” 

“Aren't you going to be late?” Louis said, glancing over his shoulder at Harry with his eyes still on his iPad. “It's nearly noon.”

Harry hummed, his eyes directed downward as he buttoned his shirt.

“Yeah, you're right. I keep getting distracted. Distracted last night. Distracted when I woke up today. Even in the shower this morning I got,” he paused and shrugged, “distracted.” He looked up at Liam, his smile baffled. He blinked his wide eyes slowly, sounding truly flustered while adding, “I don't know what's gotten into me.” His gaze flickered to the back of Louis' head for a split second before he looked to Liam. “I can't seem to stop being distracted lately.”

Harry reached around Louis to take his coat off an empty chair. 

“Lateness is an incredibly rude trait,” Louis said, tapping his bare foot on the ground. He heard Liam snicker into his palm. “How insulting for Ed.”

“I'm going, I'm going,” Harry said, his voice bouncing with laughter. He pulled a grey beanie out of his back pocket, a beanie that had last been seen on another person's head the night before. His eyes shimmered at Liam as he pulled the beanie over his hair. “Lots of going and coming around here.”

Harry could see Louis smiling in the shiny screen of his iPad, his head shaking slightly side to side. 

“Aren't you going to say goodbye to your guest?” Liam asked, nudging his foot into Louis' shin. “Talk about rude.”

 

_Louis rubbed his hands over Harry's bare stomach, letting his fingers trace the sides of his abs. One thing he learned about Harry was that he couched whatever workout activity he did, whether it was going for a run or doing yoga, with bunches of crunches or some other core related exercise._

_He thumbed the button of his skinnies and smiled with Harry's lips pressed to his, their mouthes moving together tender and slow. When they broke apart, Louis licked his lips and smiled yet again, Harry's lips laying deliberate kisses over his cheekbones._

_“They're probably a touch snug,” Louis said softly, snapping the waistband of his boxerbriefs. “Your poor balls.”_

_“Do you not remember the last pair of pants I had on?”_

_Louis grinned._

_“True. You're used to tightness.”_

_Harry shrugged his plaid shirt on but left it open, Louis still rubbing his palms up and down the front of his torso. Louis slid his hands around Harry's body to flatten on his lower back, his forehead tilting down to rest against Harry's collar bone._

_“Should I button my shirt with you inside it?” Harry asked, his cheeks rounded and rosy. He gripped the sides of his shirt and wrapped his arms around Louis. “Take you with me for the day?”_

_Louis fluttered the fingers on his right hand, the tips barely touching Harry's skin. Harry smiled and let out a little giggle, wiggling in Louis' arms._

_“Let's say goodbye in here,” Louis said, his voice quiet, his eyes rising to Harry's face. He squeezed Harry's hips, standing on tiptoe to bring them eye level. “Liam and Zayn are around. I'm not much for PDA.”_

_“I never would have guessed,” Harry deadpanned, only able to hide his smile for mere seconds. “I get it, though. I'm the same.”_

_“You mean you don't want to make out with me in front of all our friends?” Louis rubbed himself against Harry's front, rolling his hips. “With tongue?” He snarled the left side of his lips and ground harder, Harry starting to laugh. “Like, lots of messy, sloppy tongue?”_

_“Mmm,” Harry hummed, the sound buzzing in his throat. He guided Louis backwards, his brows arched upwards. “That's actually a good idea.”_

_He started sucking noisily on Louis' lips as they tumbled onto the bed, both laughing amidst a flurry of sheets and duvet._

 

“Bye, Harry,” Louis said, waving over his shoulder. “Have fun at lunch.” He glanced at him, a smile shared between them for a long beat. Louis' lips twitched to add, “And thanks for helping me fold. You're actually pretty good at it.”

“Anytime,” Harry said, grinning and opening the door. He winked at Liam and said, “Later, mate,” then slipped out, pulling the door shut.

With Harry gone, the energy of the room seemed to lose some of its sizzle, though Louis was still smiling to himself. Liam stood from the table and reached into the cabinet above their sink. He grabbed a mug and went to the coffee pot. He cleared his throat as he poured himself a cup.

“You two didn't actually fold laundry, did you?”

“Nope,” Louis said simply, flicking his finger over his iPad screen.

“I figured,” Liam said, shaking his head and smiling. “And you said you were skipping drinks to do laundry. Lies. All lies.” Liam stirred a spoonful of sugar into his coffee, Louis' soft giggle mixing with the clinking sound of his spoon against ceramic. “You've never been a liar. Harry must be a bad influence.”

“Clearly. He's downright dangerous.”

The classic tone of an iPhone receiving a text blooped from the living room, a low vibration following the sound. Liam patted his sweats for his phone, Louis looking around the kitchen. His phone was still in the bedroom. He stood from the table and walked into the living room. 

“Oh, that's Harry's,” Louis said, picking up the phone. He jogged to the front door. “Maybe I can still catch him in the hall.”

He opened the door and yelled, “Harold!” while running towards the stairs.

Harry's head appeared from around the bannister of the staircase. He smiled wide and took the steps two by two.

“I was just heading back to grab that. Thanks so much for running it out.”

“I think you just got a text from someone because it buzzed.”

Louis held it out. Harry's warm fingers bypassed the phone to slide up the top of his wrist. Harry smiled and leaned in, pressing his lips to Louis', both of his hands cupping his cheeks. Louis couldn't stop the sighed smile that he breathed against Harry's lips, his head tilting for another soft kiss. He slipped Harry's phone into the front pocket of his jeans.

“So, since I wouldn't let you kiss me, you're trying to make up for lost time?” Louis teased, his voice breathy. Despite his words, he looped his arms around Harry's neck, his fingers playing in the curlier lower bits of his hair. “Is that what this is?”

“Are you sure you don't want to come to lunch with us?” Harry murmured, one arm settling around Louis' lower back. He pouted his lips forward. “He's dying to meet you.”

“Me?”

“Mmm.” Harry pulled Louis to his body and pressed him against the wall. He started kissing his neck, fingers tugging the bottom of his tee. “I think he's starting to think you're my imaginary friend.”

“I bet you had a bunch of those.”

Harry rattled off, “Teddy, Princess Peach, Spaghetti, and Steven.”

“You named your imaginary friend Spaghetti?”

“I've always had a deep love of carbohydrates.”

Louis laughed and slipped his hand down the back collar of Harry's shirt, Harry's hands gripping his arse through his sweats. 

After a few more kisses, plus a promise to meet Harry's friend Ed on an afternoon when Louis didn't already have plans with work friends, and Harry was off running. Lateness was something he actually tried to avoid.

Louis went back into his flat and locked the door. He turned and found Liam to be sitting at the kitchen table, his face in his hands with his elbows propped on the table's edge. Liam was grinning, his feet taking turns swaying forward and back. Louis snorted.

“What's up?”

“Nothing,” Liam practically sang, his shoulders shimmying. He pushed his tongue against the side of his mouth. “You two were totally just doing laundry in the hallway.”

Louis rolled his eyes and scoffed. A pretty pink colour settling on the tops of his cheeks, his smile uncontrollably wide.

“We were not.”

“I wonder if Harry left his phone here specifically to lure you out for hallway laundry?”

“He did not and there's no such thing as hallway laundry,” Louis said, laughing loudly. “You just invented a phrase, you--” He grew serious suddenly, Liam raising his eyebrows. “Wait, could he have--” He shook his head and blinked. “Nope. I think he legitimately forgot his mobile.”

"Seems like Harry's not the only one feeling _distracted_ ," Liam said.

Louis' brows furrowed and he hummed, "Hm? What?"

“Exactly," Liam said, laughing the single word. "Speaking of phones, did you lose yours?”

Louis frowned.

“No, why?”

“I texted you last night to see if you wanted us to crash at Zayn's. You know, since you were potentially,” his brows wiggled up and down, “having guests. And you didn't answer.”

“Oh, uh, no, it wasn't necessary. Sorry, my phone was,” he scratched the back of his head and turned halfway towards his bedroom hallway, “silenced. But, uh,” he turned back to Liam, “thanks, though. You didn't have to offer that. We were probably asleep by the time you got in. I'm sorry I didn't ask if he could stay over before he, you know. Stayed over.”

“Lou,” Liam laughed softly, standing from his seat. “You're, like, the most considerate roommate a person could ever ask for. You're allowed to have overnight guests that aren't related to you. And, I mean,” Liam's eyes crinkled with a warm smile, “it's Harry, who is vying for your title of most considerate human on earth, so it really is no trouble for him to stay over whenever you want. No worries.”

Louis smiled and ruffled his hair with both hands.

“Speaking of my silenced phone, I should go,” he thumbed towards his room and clucked his tongue, “take care of that.”

Liam's smiling lips trembled to say, “You want to go text Harry, don't you?” without laughing.

“I do not,” Louis said over him, holding his palm towards Liam's face. “I'm not the romantic comedy junkie you are. I merely want to check for any urgent emails.”

“Aw, Lou Lou,” Liam said, advancing on him. Louis started to jog backwards but Liam was too fast. He slung his arm around Louis' shoulders, pulling him into his body. “This is such a fun part.” He hugged him sideways. “You can enjoy it, I promise. Don't think so much and just enjoy it.”

“A fun part of—of—Hey!” He started to laugh into Liam's shirt, pushing Liam's fingers away from his side. Breathless, he laughed, “The fun part of what?”

“Of being with someone you like who also likes you, you numpty,” Liam said, rubbing his knuckles on top of Louis' head. “You're probably all excited and fizzy inside and want to just be with Harry all the time, which is totally understandable. I know Zayn and I were the most obnoxious back in the day.”

“No way,” Louis said, finally wrenching himself out of Liam's muscled arms. “I mean, I like the guy, don't get me wrong, but I'd go nuts if I was with someone all the time. And you weren't obnoxious, just,” he smiled softly, “like, loveydovey. It was, to borrow one of your words,” he fluttered his eyelashes, “cute.”

Liam sighed and stroked Louis' cheek with the back of his hand.

“Whatever you say, babe. All I'm saying is that, as your best friend--”

“I thought I was his best friend,” Zayn's voice said.

The rough, hungover rasp of his tone caused both Liam and Louis startle at the sound, Louis clutching his chest and Liam holding his hands out as if his boyfriend was a monster. Zayn shuffled closer in just green striped boxers and one of Liam's oversized black hoodies, their stances relaxing. 

“Fuck,” Zayn mumbled, rubbing both fists against his eyes, “you two were talking so loud. Or maybe I'm still drunk.”

“Um, excuse me, but I've known Louis since we were in nappies,” Liam said, pulling the hood over Zayn's head and tugging the strings shut. Zayn whimpered and weakly pawed at the fabric covering his face. “I think I win the best friend contest.”

Louis wrinkled his nose and asked, “Why would you remind your boyfriend that you once were not potty trained?”

“Yeah, you're gross,” Zayn said, wrapping his arms around Liam from behind. He pressed his face between his shoulder blades. “But I love you.”

Liam looked to Zayn, gesturing at Louis with one outstretched hand.

“I was just explaining to sweet Louis that it's totally normal to go a bit googly-eyed when you like someone and it's new.” He laced his fingers between Zayn's, their hands joined on his stomach. “A bit mushy.”

“I'm not going googly-eyed or mushy,” Louis insisted amusedly, clenching his fists in his hair and tilting his head back. “For fuck's sake.”

“Aw, but it's kind of fun when it happens,” Zayn said, his eyes smiling at Louis from behind Liam's shoulder. “It's nice. I'm glad you're having that now.”

Louis threw his hands up in the air and laughed, walking towards his bedroom.

“You two are crazy.”

He could hear Zayn and Liam making kissing sounds behind him when he shut his bedroom door. He flopped on his bed face first. He had time for a short nap or an episode of a television show on his laptop before he had to meet up with some Simone friends for drinks. He bit his bottom lip and moved his feet into a bundle of duvet, letting his big toes tangle in the material.

While trying to decide what to do, his nose started to rub against the pillow underneath his face, a pillow from Harry's side of the bed. No, he thought, lifting his face from the bed. The left side. Not Harry's side, the left side.

Harry had tried to make his bed that morning, but his polite gesture only made Louis want to stay in bed longer with him. Harry's failed effort meant that the bed was still messy, the mattress and pillow still slightly indented where long legs and soft hands had slept the night before.

Louis flattened his hand on his stomach, pushing against the flat muscles that had started to feel like a can of shaken soda.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself, his eyes widening. “Fizzies.” He curled his knees up towards his chest and linked his feet together. “Fucking Liam and fizzies and fuck.”

He rolled onto his belly and reached out for his phone, mentally composing a text to Harry. He unlocked the screen and bypassed other alerts to go straight for his text messages. He blinked and stopped thumbing the screen, noticing that Harry had already texted him a couple of messages.

The first was a dialogue:

**Ed: Did you show up to the pub already drunk? It's not even midday, mate. Take it easy.  
** **Harry: What? No, why?**  
 **Ed: You've got major googly eyes. (squints) Good dick last night?**

Which made Louis laugh aloud, his legs shooting straight to stretch and point his toes. He shook his head, wondering if Liam had texted Harry specifically to get him to say googly-eyes, or if it was just a coincidence. 

Harry's next text was their second face mask photo, complete with touching tongues and Louis' horrified eyes and Harry managing to blush through a layer of green mush smeared over his face. Harry had captioned it with:

**think this could make it into the book? i look like i'm eating you. yumyum**

Louis laughed again, softer, his body rolling to the side. He slid his bare foot across the bed, as if there was still a warm body laying there for him to rub against. He replied:

_definitely. possibly even front cover, if you play your cards right_

**the masks look like frosting or guac. do cannibals put guacamole on their victim's faces? i'd imagine it enhances the flavor.**

Louis smiled and tucked his face against the pillow on the left side of his bed. He started to reply, then stopped. 

His eyes stared out at nothing for a beat. He could hear Liam and Zayn in the kitchen, the opening credit music for Clueless playing behind their chattering. 

His thumbs itched to type the thought that was pushing itself to the forefront of his brain at the moment, a brain that cannibal Harry would probably season and cook into a dainty meat pie with a perfect, flaky crust and a side of guacamole. 

“Fuck it, I'm fizzy,” he whispered, thumbing a message and sending it before he could stop himself.

_how do i miss you already when you've just left?_

It seemed insane that a silly text message could feel so monumental. That admitting to missing someone could feel like the equivalent of sky diving or investing a million pounds in a new company or walking a tightrope blindfolded between skyscrapers. Though it also made perfect sense. Being with Harry felt like a combination of all of those things. A thrill. An investment in something that could grow from potential to perfection. A risk.

But Louis loved a challenge. He was no coward. He loved a thrill. And he refused to pretend he didn't feel a certain way about a certain person. 

All of that bravado worked when rolling around Louis' head, but what if Harry wasn't on board? What if Harry didn't even realize what a gamble Louis was taking? What if Harry--

**you're the mind reader, so you already know that i'm thinking the same right now....lucky for you, we have laundry to do later, so we'll see each other soon enough ;)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from my favorite Tegan and Sara song, [ Relief Next To Me ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yftgnkdan8%20)
> 
> Come say hello on [ LJ](http://dolce-piccante.livejournal.com) and [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com)


	17. Interlude II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As with the last Interlude, this will jump around a lot from scene to scene. Some scenes bleed into each other, other scenes stand alone. It's takes place over weeks with the characters. 
> 
> Only warnings would be for light bondage and insane amounts of fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is later than expected! Sorry about that!!
> 
> Texts are in bold or italic. I had a few songs in mind for bits in this chapter, which I tried to link to. Totally optional to the reading experience. French translation is available if you hover over the dialogue, unless a character does the translating in dialogue.
> 
> Thank you to the wonderful warrior babe [Jess](whitechimes.tumblr.com) who has waded through this 100 PAGES of a monster chapter and listening to my insane ramblings and badly translated French bits. She's amazing! So thankful for all of her help and support<3<3<3 
> 
> Also, thank you to sweet Kat for helping me straighten out my previously mentioned bad French translations. Hopefully any of my errors won't be too distracting!
> 
> Finally, thank you to all the sweet anons and users on Tumblr who have been this incredible source of love, the incredibly supportive and thoughtful comments on AO3, and just anyone who has held on and supported this fic. Truly means the world to me<3 Y'all are awesome.
> 
> Okay, enough chat. This is a monster chapter of over 30k words, so get a snack and beverage before beginning. Enjoy!

Niall opened the door to his flat, two full bags of groceries balanced in his arms. He kicked the door shut.

“Hello, muffin,” he said, smiling at Harry's back. His eyes flicked down and up Harry's body, noting his oversized black athletic shorts and loose white v-neck tee. “You're looking comfy tonight.”

Harry glanced over his shoulder and smiled, spinning to face him.

“Hey,” he said, closing the refrigerator with his bum. He had two bottles of water in one hand and a bowl of grapes in the other. “What's up?” He put his items on the table and took the bags from Niall, placing them on the kitchen counter. “Why so much food? We just went shopping.”

“I'm going to attempt to cook for Claire at her place, but I think I bought too much. Need to reorganize.”

“Fancy,” Harry said, nudging Niall in the ribs with his elbow. “Very romantic.”

“What are you up to?”

“Oh, uh, doing laundry and,” Harry's smile widened, “just watching stuff on my laptop. I need to go to bed soon.”

“Cool. I need to figure out what I'm creating from all,” he gestured at his bags of groceries, “this.” He squinted at his flatmate. “Do you think Claire likes mac and cheese? Everyone loves mac and cheese, right?”

Harry wandered over, peeking inside one bag. He folded the top open on another bag, slipping his right hand inside.

“Mac and cheese is always a good choice, but,” he pulled a box out and peered through the plasic front, “I'd go with a quick pasta primavera, instead.”

“Primavera?”

“Primavera, like, very veggie. Boil water, throw pasta in, saute these,” he lifted and surveyed a bag of yellow zucchini, “in a bit of oil and salt. These, too.” Out came a bag of tiny tomatoes. “Then just heat up this,” he pulled out a jar of pre-made tomato sauce, “throw the veg in, and pour over pasta. Colourful, hearty, easy.”

“Colourful, hearty, easy,” Niall repeated, nodding with each word.

Harry continued, “You can use this,” out came a bottle of balsamic dressing, “and just baby spinach as a side salad. Dress up the presentation a bit with the green. If you want to be really fancy, serve this,” he opened the refrigerator and pulled out an unopened package of fresh mozzarella, “on the side with the balsamic and tomatoes. Caprese is always a winner. And, oh, I just brought this home.” 

He opened a drawer and a fresh loaf of Italian bread appeared. 

“You could use this for the Caprese, too. Or just slice it up and dip in oil.” Harry tapped his fingers on top of the thin paper wrapper of the bread. “I could eat one of these with oil every day, I swear.”

Niall squinted at the neat line of ingredients Harry laid out on the counter. He put his hands on his hips.

“Is it sad that I bought all these things and had no idea what to do with them?”

“Nah,” Harry said, packing Niall's items in a cloth grocery bag. He switched the bunch of zucchini with the loaf of bread, angling items in weight order. “You picked all the right things and your vegetables are all perfect. Good eye.” 

“You taught me well.”

Once complete, Harry held out Niall's ingredients with a big smile, the bag swaying in the air. 

“Off you go. You've got pasta to cook and Claire to woo.”

“Woo,” Niall snorted, taking the bag from him. “Yeah. Right. I don't know how we're still even dating. I'm almost one hundred percent positive she can't stand me.”

“Aw, c'mon, who can resist this,” Harry said, pinching Niall's cheek. Niall pawed at his hand, grinning and shouldering the grocery bag. “Have fun, yeah?”

“I shall try my best.”

Niall patted his pockets and moved towards the door. He opened it, but paused in the doorway. He looked down.

“When did you buy Toms?”

Harry turned towards him, bottles of water in one hand and the bowl of grapes in another.

“Hm?”

Niall pointed his shoe towards a pair of black Toms neatly lined up next to a pair of Harry's boots.

“They look awfully small,” Niall said, advancing on Harry. Harry could only hold off his grin for so long, his lips trembling not to laugh. Niall shook one finger at him. “Harold, do you have a boy in the house?”

Harry glanced towards his bedroom door and huffed out a soft laugh, balancing the bottoms of the water bottles on his stomach.

“Louis is in my room.”

Niall gasped and clutched his chest.

“And he didn't come out to say hello to yours truly?”

“We're watching Game of Thrones while I do laundry. He probably didn't even hear you come in.”

“You two and the laundry, I swear,” Niall said, grinning and shaking his head. “Constant laundry. You must have the cleanest clothes in London. Didn't he do laundry last night?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Harry said, his face warm under Niall's knowing gaze. He smiled and nodded. “Yeah, he did.”

“And?” Niall goaded, batting his eyelashes. “Is that all you did?”

“And we, um,” Harry's smile grew wider, his face even warmer, “talked and stuff.”

Niall's voice went even higher to sing song, “Yeah? And stuff?”

“Yeah.”

“And? Was it the talk you wanted?”

Harry grinned, his dimples popping out. He looked down, nodding.

“Yeah,” he said softly, biting his bottom lip. He pressed his big toes together. “It was. Better than expected, I'll just say that.” 

“You two sat around doing masks and talking all night?”

Harry smiled up at him.

“Something like that.”

Niall smiled and laughed, “Yeah, right, mate.” He flicked his fingers against the center of Harry's chest. “I can see the scratch marks through your tee. Must have been some talk.”

Harry's smile widened.

“Louis is a very eloquent conversationalist.”

“I never would have guessed.”

Harry gestured towards the door.

“Shoo. Get out of here. Go cook for Claire.”

“Why, so you can bang Lou to the Game of Thrones theme song?”

Harry laughed, “You're crazy, no, Jesus Christ.” He opened the door for Niall. “I wouldn't be able to stop laughing if we did that.”

Niall walked backwards out the door with his arms clutching his grocery bags. He held Harry's gaze for a beat then started to sing the theme song at the top of his lungs, thrusting his hips for faster notes, Harry attempting the shut the door behind him. 

“Oh, Harry, fuck me like Jon Snow, you stud,” Niall moaned, his voice echoing through the hall. 

“Jon Snow doesn't fuck people,” Harry said on a loud laugh, balancing all his items in one arm. “That's the whole point of the--" He moved his hand over Niall's mouth. "Shh! What will our neighbours think?”

“Make me your wildling,” Niall said, just as loud, his thrusts going faster, Harry's laughter mixing in with Niall's breathy moans. “A Stark in the streets, and a wildling in the sheets.”

“Get out of here,” Harry said on a laugh, finally shutting the door.

He could hear Niall cheerfully whistling the theme song as he walked down the steps. He smiled to himself and shook his head, moving back to his bedroom. 

“I come bearing fruit,” he said as he walked through the doorway. He used his bum to angle the door shut. “I hope you...”

Harry trailed off. His feet lost their sense of direction and went pigeon-toed. He placed the water and bowl of grapes on his bedside table, his motions accompanied by the soundtrack of Game of Thrones playing through his laptop speakers.

He lifted the duvet and slid his legs underneath, mindful of his computer open on the centre of the bed. He paused the episode and moved closer to Louis’ body, lowering himself to get a good look as his sleeping, calm face. 

Harry stroked his fingers over Louis' messy fringe, letting his hand flatten on the side of his neck. He thumbed over his pulse, Louis' eyes moving under his lids.

Dazed blue eyes blinked at him, a slow smile stretching across Louis' face and causing the skin beside his eyes to crinkle.

“I fell asleep,” Louis stated, his voice raspy. 

“You did,” Harry said, amused. He leaned forward, briefly pressing their lips together, Louis' hand sliding over his hip. “Comfy?”

Louis bit his bottom lip, smiling.

“Very.”

“Do you want me to drive you home?”

“No way, don't be silly,” Louis said, snuggling closer to Harry's side. He tucked a hand under his head, his cheek resting on Harry's shoulder, eyes still sagging with sleep. “You have to get up so early for work. I'll go on my own whenever you want to get to bed.”

“But..." Harry checked his watch. "It's late.”

Louis squinted up at him, smoothing his hand over his stomach.

“Not really.” He patted his cheek. “You're just a sleepy bunny.”

“A sleepy bunny?”

“Yes,” Louis said on a soft giggle. "A sleepy bunny."

“You could stay over, if you'd like.”

Louis lifted himself higher, his weight resting on his left elbow.

“I don't want to disturb your sleep schedule. You've got to work tomorrow.”

“You wouldn't disturb me,” Harry said, stroking the side of Louis' hair. “And, if you want, I can just leave you an extra set of keys, so you can lock yourself out whenever you want to leave.”

“I can leave when you go to work.”

“That's so early, though.”

Louis shrugged, the motion causing his smiling eyes to crinkle even more.

“I'll survive.”

Harry was smiling, but inside his head he could see a countdown. It was exciting and a touch romantic to get up baker-early once. Maybe twice. Three times, if there was a miracle. After three, it seemed to lose some of its charm.

“You don't have to get up with me,” Harry insisted. “I can absolutely leave keys on the table for you.”

“It's alright. I don't mind. It'll be an adventure.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, thumb stroking Louis' cheekbone.

“You do realize I'll be up at four-thirty, yeah?”

“Yikes,” Louis said high in his throat, his eyes round and wide. Harry snuffled and nuzzled his cheek against Louis' shoulder. Louis' face brightened with a smile, his gaze showing signs of sleepiness. “I'll do my best to survive.”

“If you come to the bakery with me, you can get the first pastry of the day. The first coffee, too.”

Louis blew air through his lips.

“Say no more. I'm there.”

Harry smiled, exhaling short, staccato breaths out of his nose.

“We'll see how you feel in a few hours.”

“Like,” Louis squinted, “how few hours?”

 

. . . . .

At four-thirty on the button, Harry's iPhone alarm went off. He normally would reach over, turn off the alarm, and physically throw his legs out of the bed, forcing his feet to touch the floor and his body to sway into a semi-upright position. It was the only way to get yourself going after too few hours of sleep and a lack of sunshine for the first quarter of your work day.

That morning, Harry woke up with his face pressed against Louis' neck, their skin slightly sleep sweaty and warm under his duvet. Louis exhaled a soft, long hum into his hair, his arms tightening around Harry's body. 

Harry wondered if he could hit snooze and lengthen this perfect moment in time, but then Louis' voice quietly sing-songed, “Time to get up,” and nudged his thumbs into Harry's lower back, massaging a slow line along the sides of his spine.

“I don't think I can move,” Harry said, squeezing his eyes shut and curling tighter against Louis. “Don't want to. Refuse.”

Louis let out a near-silent laugh, the sound nothing more than a rasped, bubbly collection of tones. He stroked the back of Harry's neck, prompting Harry to shudder closer under the blanket.

“Aren't you supposed to be the early morning expert?”

“I don't usually have you in my bed in the morning, so this is totally new ground for me.”

Louis pressed a kiss to his forehead, still idly stroking the back of his neck. Harry's phone continued to buzz on the bedside table but he couldn't find it in himself to care. Louis reached over Harry's body and tapped his finger on the screen of his iPhone. 

“Did you really put baked goods Emoji as the title of that alarm?”

Harry smiled, but hid his grinning face in Louis' side, giggling at the feeling of sneaky fingers wiggling on his ribs.

“Don't judge my alarm clock.”

Louis bundled Harry up against his chest, tucking his chin on top of Harry's wild mess of curls.

“Do pastry chefs ever call in sick?”

“I've never done it, but it happens.” Harry lifted his face and started to say, “I can tell that weekends will be...”

He trailed off, his mouth stuck open. Louis was staring at him, his eyes at half their normal wideness and his hair sticking up towards the left side. Louis smiled wider, his long lashes fluttering with the motion.

“What?”

Harry kissed him softly, keeping his lips shut. Louis' hand cupped the back of his neck, Harry kissing him once more before he pulled back.

“Good, good morning,” Harry whispered, his nose brushing over Louis' cheekbone. 

“Good, good morning?” Louis asked.

“You're the extra good,” Harry said, prompting both to smile wider.

Louis rolled Harry onto his back, their bodies resettling in the reversed position, the duvet binding both together.

“I don't know if I can even articulate how gorgeous you are in the morning,” Louis said on barely a murmur, pressing his face into Harry's neck, his skin hot and especially tender, his smell warm and sweet. “So bloody sexy, even when you've just woken up. It's madness.”

Harry let his head tilt, Louis pressing firm kisses along the side of his neck. A pink flush settled over his smiling face, his hands linked on the small of Louis' back. 

He squeezed Louis' left arse cheek through his borrowed pair of bright orange running shorts, a hint of Louis' teeth nipping next to his Adam's apple. Slight stubble rubbed against his neck each time Louis' lips brushed his skin, the rough feeling making him even harder in his black shorts. 

Louis ground against him, sucking firmer on his pulse. His hand walked up Harry's thigh until he reached his middle, rubbing between his legs and using the weight of his body to pin his own hand against Harry. He squeezed him through the fabric and a quiet, rasped moan fell from Harry's parted lips, Harry slipping his hand down the back of Louis' shorts.

Louis popped up and winced, holding his hand over his mouth, his eyes wide awake.

“Sorry, you need to go to work,” he said, moving off of Harry. “I'm going to make you late.”

Harry laughed and pulled Louis back on top of him.

“It's not like my baked goods are going to sprout legs and run out of the bakery.”

“Ah ah,” Louis said, waggling his finger. “I will not have me sleeping over make you late." He scooted his bum to the end of the bed, Harry's fingers struggling to keep hold of his hips. "That would be the start of a horrible habit.”

Harry pouted his bottom lip out, flattening on his stomach, the front of his hair straighter than usual. He extended his arms towards Louis, his toes pushing against his headboard.

“Can I at least suck you in the shower?” he asked, sliding his hands up Louis' thighs. Louis thought for a moment, Harry's lips zoning in on his stomach. He kissed beside his navel. “You have such soft skin here.”

“You're distracting me.”

“From what?”

“Trying to calculate how fast we need to get ready in relation to how fast I can get a blowie.”

“I can be really quick,” Harry said, moving more of his body on top of Louis' lap, the motion making Louis lie back on the bed. Harry kissed up the centre of his chest, murmuring, “Promise.”

“Good thing I've got all my morning supplies here already, right?”

Harry's lips faltered, his mouth curling into a sheepish smile. Louis tugged on his earlobe.

“I told you,” Harry said, sitting up. Louis was smirking, his hand cradling Harry's face to stroke his brow. “The store was having a sale.”

“On my brand of contact solution, toothbrush, and mouthwash?”

“They're very common brands,” Harry said, though his face was bright red, morning sunlight doing nothing to hide his glowing flush. 

. . .

Louis lifted the neckline of his grey knit sweater up to his nose. He took a quiet breath in. He didn't know what kind of washing powder Harry used, but it must have been some special unscented variety. Harry's clean sweater smelled almost exactly like his clean skin.

The front door of the bakery locked, the tiny bell at the top of the door jingling in the still air.

“Sorry, would it be incredibly weird of me to ask you to wear a hairnet? Health code and all."

Harry's voice brought Louis out of his laundry thoughts.

“Hairnet here? Cool." Louis bent forward, Harry stretching it over his head. "Hairnet in bed? Eh,” Louis wrinkled his nose, “we'd have to discuss it.”

Harry smiled at him and squeezed his shoulder.

"I love an open mind." He walked backwards towards the double doors. “I'll try to keep my work at work.”

“You can feed me sweets in bed, though,” Louis said, following him. “Imagine that? You feeding me chocolate covered strawberries before you fuck my brains out? What a life.”

Harry laughed as he turned a wall of ovens on. 

“You never cease to amaze me with how you incorporate poetry into your life.”

He watched Harry move from machine to shining machine, flicking switches and dumping containers of pre-measured ingredients into metal vats. Louis squeezed Harry's arse in passing, a gentle squeeze through his baggy chef's trousers. 

"Ooh, frisky in the morning," Harry said, wiggling his bum as he walked. 

He went further into the kitchen until he reached the sink. Louis did a more generous tour of the space, looping between counters and studying every gleaming appliance.

“It's so quiet when you're alone here,” Louis said, his voice dropping to a lower rasp. Harry turned the sink water on and soaped up his hands, washing all the way up to his elbows. “Peaceful.”

“Yeah, I actually like the early hours for that reason. It's a nice start to the day. Although,” he reached for a paper towel, “I wouldn't mind a little more sleep.”

“Should I do my hands, too?”

Harry smiled at him, rubbing the towel over his hands in a practiced motion. He turned the faucet off.

“Are you going to help me prep?”

“Oh, uh," Louis's brows twitched together, "I can...Try?”

Harry chuckled and tossed the towel in the trash. He pulled a large metal pan out of a refrigerator, balancing it in one hand to open the oven with his other hand.

“I'm kidding,” he popped it inside, “though I bet you'd be a great assistant.”

“I'd probably eat more than I actually prep.” 

“What would you like? Pastry? Cookies?” He opened a freezer and out came two smaller, but equally filled, pans of uncooked dough. He knocked on two standing mixers in passing. “Bread? I can make you whatever you want.”

“Whatever you're making for yourself, I'll just have that,” Louis said, his mouth stretching around a yawn throughout his whole sentence. He smiled sleepily and leaned against a stainless steel refrigerator, his arms crossed over his chest. “I don't need much. Just a little bite and sip of something. Then I'll get out of your way.”

“You're not in my way.” Harry set two oven timers at once, smiling at Louis as he turned the dials. “At all.”

“You know what I mean.”

“A bite and sip. Right.” Harry pulled an apron over his head, smiling wider. He tied a knot behind his back. “Coming right up.”

He went to the front of the bakery and fired up the espresso machine. His hand gravitated towards the caramel flavour syrup, but then decided that a classic cappuccino might be best. It was so early and Louis didn't usually like sweets. Caramel might be a bit much.

He busied himself with setting up the front displays while the machine warmed up, arranging the trays and shelves as he did every day. Once the machine was running, he made two quick cups for them, choosing to use simple white cups with matching saucers.

He heard the oven timer buzz and gripped one of their cappuccinos in each of his hands. He walked to the double doors and pushed inside. 

“Alright, one for you,” he said, placing the white cups on the centre steel island, “one for me. Then I'll just grab these.” He walked quickly to the buzzing oven and slid his hand into a heavy duty oven mitt. He opened the oven and pulled a tray of almond croissants out. “I hope you like these. I think you will, but if you don't, I'll make you something else. Maybe you're more of a bread for breakfast type. You like toast, right? Maybe some brioche would be nice. Brioche with sweet butter.”

Harry placed the tray on a cooling rack and took off the mitt. Louis had not replied to any of his most recent comments, the hum of a few mixers the only noise in the kitchen. Harry looked towards the fridge Louis had been leaning on, but Louis was no longer there. 

“Hm,” Harry hummed, scratching his forearm. He turned in a circle. “Louis?”

He took a step closer to the pantry and heard the tiniest of breaths, a quiet wheeze following. He looked down.

Louis was sitting on the floor, his legs curled up to his chest and his knees touching, his feet spread at different widths from his body. He was resting against a bag of flour taller than he was, his head tilted to the right and his arms crossed over his chest, his black skinnies riding up higher on his left ankle.

Harry pulled his phone out, his cheeks aching and his belly trembling with silenced laughter. He lifted it and snapped a photo, the sight of Louis snoozing in his hair net with flour on his cheeks too perfect not to be immortalized. 

“Are you taking a picture of me like this?” Louis mumbled, his lips the only part of his body moving.

“Of course.” 

Harry pocketed his phone and got down to his knees in front of Louis. He rubbed the top of his thighs and Louis spread his legs. Harry's body fit into the space, his hands gripping the bottom of Louis' sweater. He brought their lips together, Louis smiling into the kiss. 

“I made you a cappuccino," Harry said, softly pecking his right cheek. "And the croissants are ready.”

“Mmm, smells amazing,” Louis said on a low hum, his eyes still shut. He pursed his closed mouth slightly forward and was met with another sort press of Harry's lips, followed by a firmer kiss. “You're magic.”

Harry smiled, stroking along the back of his neck, Louis exhaling a high sound through his nose while tilting his head. 

“See?” Louis said, his fingers curling into Harry's hairnet. He gave his scalp a gentle scratch. “I'm distracting you from work.”

“Bread dough and muffin batter can wait.”

Louis' eyes opened slowly, his long lashes fluttering with the motion. He smiled and smoothed his palm along Harry's jawline.

“I could get used to these early mornings if I get to see your sleepy face and eat your croissants every time.”

Harry's voice was slow, as if he was deliberately trying to form the words in his brain before letting them out of his mouth.

“That can be arranged.”

Louis let out a silent, shivered laugh. Both of his hands cupped Harry's cheeks, pulling him closer. Harry's eyes dropped to Louis' mouth and both smiled, Louis letting his head fall to the side and sucking a soft kiss to Harry's lips. 

Harry exhaled shakily, smiling wider. 

“S'gonna take me a while to get used to how good that feels.”

Louis' fingers snuck up the bottom of Harry’s hair net, scratching over the back of his hair. 

“We can do it a lot,” Louis whispered, warmth sparkling in his eyes. “To get you up to speed, yeah?”

Harry grinned and leaned back in, pressing their lips together firmer. Louis' fingertips got caught in his hairnet, both smiling into their kisses.

“Ooh la la,” a female voice sang into the kitchen.

Harry's eyes shot open, his lips stuck in an air kiss. Louis pulled back, his mouth agape and his eyes wide.

“Hi, uh, hello,” Harry said, standing and smoothing his hands over his pants. Louis stumbled to stand up behind him, rubbing his hands over his cheeks. “Good morning.”

Helena waved at them with both hands, her eyes crinkled.

“Good morning, young ones.” She brought her eyes to Louis, her smile growing a touch more wicked. “Young and virile, apparently.”

"Good morning," Louis said, holding his hand out. "I'm Louis. We met briefly, but it's so nice to see you again."

"Ah ha, yes," Helena said, voice bubbling melodically amongst the sound of mixers. She raised her eyebrows at Harry and shifted her right shoulder forward, daintily shaking Louis' hand. "Le Louis?"

Louis looked to Harry, who was blinking wide-eyed at Helena, his throat bobbing to swallow.

"Yes, I'm Louis," he said slowly, smiling at her.

An oven buzzed and he dropped her hand. Harry leaned to the side and silenced the oven, giving Helena an in. She reached out for Louis and held his face in her hands, loudly kissing his right, then left cheek.

She started to speak quickly in French and Louis giggled into her velvety, rose scented cheek. She was going on and on about something, babbling, " _Oui, oui, le petit coup de foudre. Le trésor, l’immence espérance. Très beau, très beau, il n’a pas menti."_

"I don't speak French, sorry," he said, Helena kissing his cheek once more for good measure. “But it sounds beautiful, whatever you’re saying.”

"Perhaps Harry could translate?" she said more as a statement, smiling at Harry with Louis' face still in her hands. "Oh, mon amour," she touched Harry's cheek, "you're flushed. How come?"

"Maybe later," Harry said, shaking his head but still smiling at Helena. "Breakfast is ready, if you'd like to join us." He narrowed his eyes at her, his lips twitching forward. " _Petit farceur."_

. . . .

“Oi, oi, oi, what's going on in there?”

Louis smiled against Harry's equally smiley lips. They broke their kiss with a soft click between them, both shifting closer beneath the covers. They could hear Liam chiding Zayn, “C'mon, drunkie, leave them alone. I'll make you a grilled cheese,” and their footsteps fading away from the bedroom door.

“He's such a funny drunk,” Harry whispered on a half-laugh.

They resumed their slow kisses with a wet suck, Harry's arm around Louis' shoulders, pulling him closer. Strong hands massaged Harry's lower back underneath his black tee, their ankles rubbing together. Louis dropped his lips to Harry's jawline, kissing down to his hammering pulse. He started to suck just to the right of his Adam's apple and Harry moaned, muffling the sound in Louis' hair.

“Lou?”

“Hmm?” Louis hummed, sinking his teeth into a tiny bite in that same spot of Harry's neck.

The twinge of heat made Harry's socked feet curl against the mattress, his voice rough to say, “Is it okay for me to still be here? It's getting late.”

“Of course,” Louis said, breathless. He lifted his face and licked his lips, which only made Harry lean in again, their mouths massaging together. “You can be here whenever you want. Liam doesn't care.”

“But do you want me here?”

Louis pulled out of a kiss to hold Harry's face in his hands, their noses close enough to touch. Harry's gaze dropped to his lips, then studied the strong line of his nose, all leading up to his crinkled eyes.

“Stay over tonight,” Louis said, voice soft and low, his thumbs rubbing Harry's cheekbones. He started to smile wider, his fingernails scratching the sides of Harry's head. “No response? Do I have horrible breath or something?”

Harry's brows furrowed.

“No—Yes, but not—No.” His eyes went wide, his lips forming a plump circle. “I mean, yeah, I'd love to stay. Always.” He swallowed, his confusion shifting to foggy concern. “But don't you all have work tomorrow?”

“So? You're off. You can sleep in as long as you'd like. I'll just be quiet when I get up for work.” Louis started to press light kisses to Harry's lips, his arms winding around his body again. He rubbed himself against Harry's front, his right hand squeezing his arse. “Maybe I'll even nip home on lunch and wake you up with a surprise.”

. . .

Louis adjusted his navy blue collar in the mirror, flicking open an extra button. He shrugged on a black peacoat, patting his pockets. He picked up his iPhone and keys, pocketing them. He shouldered his work bag.

“Lou?”

He turned towards the bed, drawn closer by Harry’s gentle, sleep heavy voice. He dropped his bag next to the bed and sat next to Harry’s torso, carding his fingers through his messy hair. Getting out of bed that morning with Harry wrapped warm around him and clucking lazy snores against his neck was the equivalent of trying to claw his way out of a tar pit.

“Go back to sleep,” Louis whispered, leaning lower. “You need the rest.” He pressed his lips to Harry’s forehead. Harry exhaled a high pitched, warbled sigh, Louis’ lips smiling against his skin. “Like I said before, you can let yourself out whenever you’d like.”

“I can make you…” Harry’s words slowed, his chest barreling up with a deep breath. His eyes moved under his lids, body relaxing into the bed. “Breakfast…Can...Eggs...”

Louis chuckled quietly, smoothing Harry’s fringe off his face. 

“I ate already. When you wake up, you will have full access of my extensive cereal collection and whatever you want to wear, if you need clothes. Liam’s off, too, so he’ll probably be in the living room if you need him.” He pulled the duvet higher on Harry’s bare chest, stroking the sides of his neck. “Or,” he thumbed under his ear, “you could just wait here, naked, for me to get home from work.”

Harry smiled with his eyes shut and let out a little laugh, leaning his head sideways.

“Okay.”

Just before lunch, while in a teleconference with their Miami office, Louis received a text from Liam. 

**BEST. MORNING OFF. EVER.**

The message was accompanied by a photo of Liam and Harry in the living room sitting on the sofa. Both of their cheeks were puffed out to maximum capacity, their mouths stuffed full of blueberry pancakes and their eyes rolled back in their heads. Louis could see that they were watching Kill Bill: Volume Two and Harry was wearing one of his old football jerseys, Liam also still in pajamas.

“Fucking hell, I hate them,” Zayn whispered at his side, smiling down at the matching text on his iPhone.

. . .

“A little R&B in the mix?” Louis said, bending to soap his lower body, his hips swaying to the beat. “Very shocking. I had no idea you were a fan.”

Harry shook his head under the water, rinsing shampoo out of his hair.

“You know you like it,” he said, blindly reaching for Louis. He gripped what felt like Louis' arse and pinched, Louis giggling and wiggling his soapy bum away. “Besides, this is a song dedicated to popping a boner that actually was played on the radio. You should respect it.”

“How is it about getting a boner?”

“Do you not remember this song? [Too Close](%E2%80%9C)?" Harry opened his eyes, pushing his hair off his head. He shut his eyes to dunk his head under once more. “The lyrics include the phrase, 'You're makin' it hard for me,' and multiple mentions of feeling a little poke while dancing.”

“I guess you're right.” Louis curled his hands around Harry's hips, kissing between his shoulder blades and rubbing his palms in a circle. “Can we switch? I need to rinse.”

“Sure.”

Harry stepped back and Louis moved in front of him. He ground his hips in a figure eight motion and bent his knees, his body gyrating lazily with soap dragging down his arse to pool at his feet. The motion was hypnotic, the muscles of his back fluttering up and down, his arse flexing each time his rose from his squat.

It took Harry almost half a minute of music before he exclaimed, “Oh my God, you can actually dance,” with all of his teeth on display.

Louis looked at him over his shoulder, shaking his arse and bending forward to replace his body wash. Harry pressed himself against Louis from behind, grinding into him in rhythm with his motions. Louis grinned and turned around to face him, pulling Harry under the shower.

“We dance in the shower all the time.” He draped his arms around Harry's neck. Their wet skin slid together, Louis' cock settling in the crease of Harry's thigh. “You've seen my moves.”

“No, but, like,” Harry's eyes fell shut, Louis starting to kiss his neck, wet fingertips touching just above his arse, “you actually are a good dancer. Even alone, you've got amazing rhythm.”

Louis kissed his mouth quickly and pulled back.

“Not really.” He picked up the conditioner. “I just have a decent arse, so I can fake it.”

Harry's eyes dropped for a beat, his lips pursed forward and his head nodding.

“You have an amazing arse. Not decent. Amazing.”

“Aw,” Louis giggled high and bubbly, “cheers, mate.”

“But,” Harry squeezed his hips, Louis rubbing conditioner through his hair, “you can dance. Like, legitimately dance.”

Louis plopped the conditioner bottle on its shelf, rinsing his hands above his head in the streaming water with his body still facing Harry.

"Dunno about legitimately," Louis clasped his fingers together and stretched upwards, "but I guess I have my moments."

Harry bit under Louis' right arm, pulling a surprised laugh of, "Harry!" from Louis. His arms crashed down on top of Harry's shoulders.

“You definitely took dance lessons or something,” Harry said, smiling against the crease of his arm.

“My mum would go through phases where she did these dancey workout DVDs at night," Louis said. He lifted his arm, dabbing conditioner off his forehead with the back of his hand. Harry hummed and started to kiss circles beside his nipple, his gaze hazy. "Sometimes she'd be exhausted from work and the girls and everything, so, I said I'd do the DVDs with her and we could talk about our days.”

He tipped his head back, rinsing his conditioner out. Helpful hands ran through his hair, his own hands resting on Harry's abs. 

“That way," Louis continued, "she could get her workout done, check in with me about whatever went on at home, and then go to sleep, instead of having to spend time talking to me after her crazy schedule.”

Harry pushed Louis' hair back, large heels of his hands pillowy on the sides of his face.

“Your mum worked a lot when you were little?”

Louis' eyes opened, his hands twitching on Harry's skin.

“Um, yeah.” He stepped backwards and shut his eyes, rubbing his hands through his hair. He ruffled his hair until it stood up straight. “She did. Still does, unfortunately, but the girls are older. It's a lot easier now that Lottie can watch them like I used to.”

“What does she do?”

“She's a nurse. Works with newborns all day.”

“Wow, that's so cool,” Harry said quietly, one hand rubbing Louis' stomach. “That's such a huge achievement. So much responsibility and knowledge. I can see how it would be hard to juggle everything.”

“She was studying at the same time as working when I was younger.” Louis pushed Harry's hair off his head, forming it into a mohawk. “It was a lot for her.”

“And...” Harry licked shower water off his lips, nibbling the bottom one. He sought out Louis' eyes but saw nothing but the tan, smooth skin of his neck. “Your dad was never in the picture?”

Louis handed Harry his face wash.

“Nope," he said simply, smiling with his lips shut. "Never even met the man."

Harry held onto his face wash bottle and watched Louis soap up his face, his eyes shut.

“And your sisters' dad?”

Louis dunked his face under the water.

“My stepdad was alright in the beginning. He's nice enough, still does holidays once in a while, but he's...” He shook his head and stepped out of the water, rubbing his fingers against his eyes. “He wasn't much of a partner to my mum, you know?" His lashes blinked water away. "Never really felt like he should help around the house or with his girls or--” Louis scrunched his face, laughing and prodding Harry's stomach. “Weren't we dancing a minute ago?” He hugged Harry to his body, his arms looped around to link on Harry’s lower back. “Your favourite boner jam is still going. We should be grinding right now.”

Harry stepped up to him and started to move in rhythm, but wasn't grinding. His long arms settled on Louis’ shoulders, their abs pressed together. 

Louis’ brows piqued upwards. Harry smiled softly down at him, letting his fingers brush the back of his neck, fingertips dragging over his wet skin.

Louis looked down at their feet as they swayed, the music shifting from a boner jam to the song Endlessly. His hands migrated to Harry's hips, Harry lowering his face and kissing beneath his ear.

“Muse on one of your playlists?” Louis asked, voice breathy. "And older Muse, at that?"

His eyes lulled shut, Harry's cheek resting on his shoulder, their bodies still swaying. The water continued to pound on their backs, depending on who swayed which way.

"Your influence," Harry said, lacing his hand in the back of Louis' hair. "Thought I'd expand my horizons."

Louis could hear the smile in his quiet voice, a matching smile stretching across his face.

"You're a good son to have danced with your mum," Harry said, pulling him closer. He had never seen a photo of Louis as a teenager, but could imagine him running a household at any age. The insight into Louis' upbringing made his natural sense of responsibility even more logical. "A good brother to take care of the kids all day."

Louis watched the cooling shower water swirl around their feet, Harry's big toes nudging his smaller toes. He said nothing, letting Harry's body guide their slow tempo.

"I really like hearing about your family," Harry continued, his voice echoing, body swaying Louis away from the cold shower stream. He kissed the sharp line of Louis' jaw. "Thank you for telling me."

Louis looked up at Harry's face with furrowed brows.

"You do?"

"Mmhmm."

"You don't think it's...Boring?"

Harry shook his head, smiling, water racing down his temples.

"Nope. Not at all." He turned the water off and ruffled his hair with both hands, his biceps flexing with the motion. "Your family is a huge part of you, and I love that.” He opened the shower door. “I'm the same way."

Louis’ face relaxed as he watched Harry walk out of the shower. He blinked rapidly, dragging his eyes away from Harry’s wet arse and bringing them up to the back of his head. 

Harry turned around with a towel in his hand, already toweling his own hair. He smiled confusedly and looked at Louis standing still in the empty shower.

“Not clean enough?” Harry laughed, walking back to the shower. He placed the towels on the countertop. “We’ve been in there for, like, half an hour, but,” he stepped back inside and pulled the door shut, “if you want more shower time, I’m always game. Liam’s going to have a coronary when he sees your water bill.”

“What’s your mum’s name?”

Harry’s hand paused in the air, his fingertips almost brushing the faucet for warm water. The quiet question was punctuated by a loud drip of water against the tile floor. 

He looked down at Louis, who stared up at him with rounded eyes, the colour such a pale blue under the reflection of the pristine white tiles. His mouth was slightly open, water still dripping down his matted hair onto his cheekbones, rivulets drawing paths down his neck. 

“Anne,” Harry answered on instinct, though his voice was slow. Slow and surprised, a touch higher than usual. “What…” His voice dropped to its normal range. “What’s your mum’s name?”

Louis’ eyes scrunched, drops of water bouncing off his cheeks while he smiled.

“Jay.” 

Louis pulled the shower back on, the slight gap in time buying them a few minutes of warmer water. Harry blinked away the sudden burst in his face and coughed out a mouth of water on a laugh.

“Tell me about her,” Louis said with a small smile, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck, his hands linked behind his head. He started to sway, Harry’s confused eyes glued to his face while his body swayed along with him. “Your mum, I mean.”

Harry’s arms moved of their own accord to Louis’ hips, his hands settling on his lower back. Louis kissed the front of his shoulder, resting his head over his heart.

“She’s great,” Harry said with a crack in his voice, Louis’ smile growing against his wet skin, both swaying until steam reached the ceiling.

. . .

Louis pulled on the doorknob of his building's main entrance and patted his pocket. He turned around and took the steps two by two. Harry waited for him at the bottom, his hands on his hips and a small smile on his face. The less steps there were between them, the bigger Harry's smile grew. When he reached the final step, Louis paused in front of Harry. 

“Hi,” Harry said, his right hand smoothing around Louis' side until it flattened on his lower back. His thumb traced along the waistband of his black skinnies. “You look lovely today.”

Louis leaned down, pressing their lips together sweet and soft, just as sweet and soft as Harry's comment. Fingers twitched on his back, Harry moving closer until the fronts of his boots bumped into the stone steps. Louis pulled back just enough for Harry's body to tip forward, his mouth still pursed and his half-closed eyes glued to Louis' lips.

“Do you want to go on an adventure with me?” Louis asked, steadying him with a hand on each shoulder. “It shouldn't take terribly long.” He thumbed both sides of the bottom of his neck. “We can eat after.”

“Always,” Harry answered, his face split open by his grin. He pushed his hair off his forehead, Louis' hand shadowing the motion to ruffle through his fringe. “What did you have in mind?”

Louis gripped Harry’s belt buckle, stepping to his level.

“Come with me. We're going on a little journey to our destination.”

“Do I need to change clothes?”

Louis looked him up and down, taking in his tight jeans and black tee, deep brown boots completing his look.

“Nope.” He gave his belt another tug and smiled, smoothing his hands over the lapels of his brown jacket collar. “You're perfect in that.”

Harry slid his black sunglasses on and nudged their hips together.

“Lead on, then.”

They traveled on the train for about twenty minutes. It was mostly uneventful, other than when Louis pulled out a headphone splitter and offered it to Harry. 

“You make much better mixes than I do,” Louis said, plugging it into Harry's phone for him. "We've got time for maybe four songs." He put his headphones on and settled into his seat. He rolled his head along the back of his seat and smiled at Harry, gently squeezing his thigh. “Don't let me down with your selections.”

They walked from the station to their destination, their headphones removed and all phones back in their rightful pockets.

“Nice selection, but how come you didn't put that one playlist on?” Louis clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Oh, what was the title of it? I can't remember. You scrolled by it so quickly that I didn't even get a chance to see what songs were on that list.”

“Be quiet,” Harry said, jutting his fingers into Louis' side. Louis laughed and gently shoved his shoulder, Harry smiling with bright pink cheeks, his hands in his front pockets. “It's just a playlist.”

“A playlist called L?”

“L could stand for lots of things.”

“Oh, yeah?” Louis draped his sunglasses in the vee of his white tee. “Like what?”

“Like...Uh...” Harry's voice trembled with unsung giggles. “Lyrics!” He snapped his fingers in the air. “Lyrics. L could stand for lyrics. Or loud.” His brows furrowed behind his sunglasses. “Loud or lyrics.”

“But does it?”

“Maybe.” Harry pinched the tip of Louis' nose and smiled innocently. “You'll never know.”

“I'm sure I can figure out a way to get it out of you.”

Harry slid his sunglasses up into his hair, his brows rising along with the motion.

“Oh, yeah?” His smile melted into one a bit more private, his gaze wavering over Louis' face until he landed on his eyes again. Something about his easy stare made Louis' skin heat under the collar of his shirt. Harry turned his body to face Louis' and murmured quieter, “Then I'm definitely not telling you a thing.”

Louis swallowed and smacked his lips together, clearing his throat into his fist. 

“Alright, it's time to start our adventure.” He held his arms out to a large building amongst other businesses. The front was black, save for a few neon spray painted lines that seemed to slash across the entire store front. “Here we are.”

He pulled open a door and held his arm out, Harry stepping inside. Louis could hear Harry's happy gasp before the door even swung shut. Harry turned around and blinked rapidly, his eyes brighter than the neon spray paint motif that continued inside, techno music pounding in the empty space.

“What is all this?” Harry asked. “Did you take me to a rave? I feel like I’m sixteen again.”

“Apparently, this is the most popular place for kids to have their birthday parties. They do all kinds of things with trampolines and foam stuff and, uh,” Louis glanced down at his iPhone, scrolling over their website, “laser tag, too, I believe.” He pocketed his phone and smiled. “Kids these days, huh?”

From the beaming smile on Harry's face, Louis could tell that children were not the only ones awed by the inflatable castles and trampoline park and multitude of ball pits.

“The owners are trying to branch out into more mature audiences,” Louis said, walking further inside. Harry followed him, rubbing his hand through a nearby ball pit. “They've hired Simone to try and broaden their reach.”

“Like, for people our age?”

“Yeah. Make use of their space at night, not just kid's birthday parties on the weekends.” Louis pushed his hand into a wall of squishy foam. “I was the one Simon thought would be best to come by and check it out. He said I could bring a guest, so,” he brushed his knuckles over Harry's forearm, “here we are.”

As if on cue, a man came out from between two inflatable castles, dressed in all black with the name TREVOR emblazoned in neon green across his chest. He squinted and smiled, looking to Louis.

“Mr. Tomlinson?”

Louis held his hand out for the shake, unable to stop the rush of blush to his cheeks at Harry's whispered, “Mr. Tomlinson,” next to him.

“Please, call me Louis,” Louis said, shaking his hand. “Thanks for having us. This all looks so fun.” He glanced at Harry, who had schooled his expression into one nearly as professional as Louis' default setting. “This is my friend Harry.”

“Hello,” Harry said, holding his hand out. His lips twitched upwards, his professional poker face barely able to last half a minute. “I love the colours in here.”

Trevor laughed as they shook hands.

“Yeah, it's cool.” He held both hands beside his head and waved them around lazily. “Even crazier at night when we use black lights.”

Louis and Harry said, “Cool,” in unison, Harry's voice a touch deeper.

“Are you lads ready for an afternoon of fun?”

Trevor took them on a tour of the whole facility, from their variety of trampoline tracks to an entire section of the building devoted to rock walls and even to their collection of ball or foam pits, complete with platforms for gladiator-type battles with enormous q-tip paddles.

“How about I let you two bounce around for a bit and then I'll come get you when the bar is all set up?” Trevor checked his watch and pursed his lips forward. “We can even have some nibbles. Our chef should be here shortly and he's worked with the bartender to pair a few bites up with themed drinks.”

“Sounds good,” Louis said, smiling at Trevor. “Take your time. We'll wander.”

Trevor said, “Cool,” and smiled before turning away. He jogged between two castles and made a right at a neon ball pit. His voice could be heard saying, “Have fun!” from behind the rock wall.

Louis looked to Harry, who was already holding out a red foam q-tip.

“Are you serious?” Louis asked, grinning, his voice shaking with laughter.

“Oh, we've got to,” Harry said, toeing his boots off. He bumped Louis' bum with his blue paddle. “I plan on knocking you down first, by the way, so please be prepared to,” he deepened his voice to a rough growl, “eat foam.”

Louis scoffed and kicked his Toms next to Harry's boots. 

“Right. You can barely walk a straight line when not on a platform.” He let his shoulder brush Harry's when he passed. He looked over his shoulder and started to crawl into the foam block filled pit. “The bigger the tree the louder the boom, isn't that a saying?”

Harry dove head first into the foam, his socked feet wiggling aimlessly in the air and Louis' laughter echoing over the pounding techno music.

They battled and bounced and climbed for well over an hour, both growing sweaty and out of breath. Harry's stomach ached from laughing so hard and Louis didn't know if his cheeks would ever not tingle from smiling for sixty minutes straight.

“It's time,” Louis said mid-jump, his legs spreading in a perfect straddle.

Harry bounced on his bum with his legs straight ahead and stood up, keeping himself going with easy bounces. His hair was beyond repair, half of it curled with sweat while the other half was pulled straight from Louis' grips throughout their bounce-fest.

“Time for what?”

Louis lunged towards him, knocking him onto his back inside the rainbow bouncy castle they had decided to call home. They rolled against the squishy wall.

“Time to finally wrestle each other,” Louis said into Harry's armpit, his arms holding tight around his waist. “I'm gonna wreck you. Ugh, you smell so good today.”

“Hey! Let me prepare!” Harry said, giggling against Louis' sweaty hair. He rolled Louis onto his back and flattened on top of him, Louis' arms scrabbling to grip his shirt. “That's only fair, Mr. Tomlinson.”

“Fine, fine,” Louis sighed, pushing himself backwards. He stood up and bounced to the opposite side of the castle. He bent his knees, testing the give of the bouncy castle. He held his hands in front of himself and eyed Harry, who was in a very similar stance. “Are you ready?”

“Are we really going to do this?” Harry asked, his dimples practically vibrating he was smiling so wide. “Aren't we grown ups?”

“Harry, we're standing inside a pink bouncy castle called Gum Drop Paradise and we just snogged in a ball pit.” His eyes widened minutely. “Of course we're grown ups.”

“I love it,” Harry said on a laugh, bending deeper in his knees. “Alright.” He slapped himself on the chest with both palms. “Let's do this.”

“You're such a jock.”

“Are you ready for this jock to destroy you?”

“Fuck, I love it when you get competitive,” Louis said, bouncing himself faster. He squeezed his hands in the air in front of his torso. “Count of three?”

They both said, “One,” together, Harry dropping low in his stance. “Two,” they said while Louis squinted, Harry already laughing. As they said the word, “Three,” both lunged towards the other, resulting in them hugging tightly in the middle of the castle. Harry pushed with his full weight and the slight difference gave him an advantage, Louis toppling over onto his back.

Harry opened his mouth to taunt, “Hah!” but then legs wrapped around his waist and his body was thrown to the side. “Oh, Jesus,” Harry said, huffing into the rubber castle floor. He pushed his knees into the castle and tried to bounce backwards, snagging Louis' waist on his way. 

The bounce of the castle caused Louis to fly over Harry's body and land against the wall, Louis hysterically laughing. Harry crawled towards him, only to have his body rocketed backwards, Louis' weight settling on his chest. Harry tried to breathe and laugh at the same time, all while their hands scrabbled for any flesh to grab onto.

“Oh, ho-ho-ho, no-oh-oh-oh,” Harry said on a hooted laugh, struggling to hug his arms to himself. He rolled to the side, but Louis was there already, one leg attempting to pin Harry to the floor. “You're playing dirty!”

“Scrappy,” Louis corrected, his fingers prodding deeper under Harry's arms. “I'm playing scrappy.”

Harry fell onto his back, his body bouncing while his stomach shook, tears brimming in his eyes. 

“Oh, my God, you’re fucking evil,” he laughed, his socked feet kicking at Louis’ shins. 

He shoved Louis' hands, but Louis' fingers were quick and precise, zoning in on every spot that pulled belly laughs out of him. 

Louis tried to wrap both legs around Harry's waist, but Harry's arm swept under him during his attempt, swooping in to grab his legs while they were open for a split second. Louis' eyes widened, strong fingers squeezing the back of his calf. 

Harry grinned at him and poked the back of his knees hard, Louis sputtering out a laugh and digging his heels into the bouncy floor. Harry quickly pushed himself on top of Louis. His weight held him down, both of his large hands wrapped over the tops of Louis' thighs. 

“Game changer,” Harry panted, still grinning.

He squeezed just above his knee and Louis howled, “Oh, you fuck!” before he started to laugh, his legs kicking out.

“If you're playing scrappy,” Harry's voice was extra deep and raspy, “I'm gonna play dirty.”

“You dirty fuck,” Louis said on a stream of giggled breaths. Harry squeezed both of his thighs and Louis spasmed underneath him. “You're in so much trouble!”

Louis pulled on the bottom of Harry's black tee and tried to roll, succeeding in stretching the material while also still keeping his legs within Harry's reach. As he laughed and bounced back to Harry, he accidentally gripped Harry's groin for stability. Harry squeezed his leg harder, a low groan exhaled amidst his laughter. 

“Who gets hard in a bouncy castle?” Louis whispered.

He stroked him through his jeans with one hand while drilling his thumb into his side. Harry's boyish giggle bubbled between them, his eyes crinkled shut. Louis grinned and nudged his fingers up his side, moulding his other hand around his hardness.

Harry gripped tight between Louis' legs.

“You tell me,” Harry replied, giving both his cock and his thigh a firm squeeze. Louis' mouth popped open, Harry's breath panting against his lips. He brushed their open lips together. “I'm not the only one, hm?”

He squeezed harder and Louis laughed, but the sound was strained, his head thrown back. Harry squeezed again and Louis' legs hugged him, his hand scratching his lower back underneath his tee, his laughed moan veering more towards outright whimpering.

Harry took in his tousled hair and the wideness of the blacks of his eyes, his pupils blown so wide that the blue was almost completely masked. They rolled sideways against the wall of the castle. The pink rubber structure cast a rose coloured light over their faces, Harry's wet lips too sweet looking for Louis to ignore. 

Louis stopped his prodding fingers and slid his hands up the back of Harry's shirt, his fingernails leaving trails of heat between his shoulder blades. He pressed a hissed kiss to Harry's lips. Harry's mouth opened automatically, his tongue swirling hotly against Louis', his face pushing the back of Louis' head against the bouncy floor.

Harry reached behind himself and held Louis' wrists. He started to lift them over his head, but Louis gripped his hands and pushed them away.

“You're not winning,” Louis said, struggling to still kiss Harry while wrestling out of his grip. “I won’t let you pin me.”

“Oh, no?”

“Nope.” Louis batted Harry’s hands away from his wrists. “We're going to call this a draw.” He laced their fingers together. “And I never draw.” 

“I'm honoured.”

Louis placed their joined hands on the sides of his hips. Harry released his fingers, his hands sliding to his arse. He moaned against Louis’ lips, his right hand clenching his arse, his left hand flat between his shoulder blades. 

“And then later,” Louis continued, his head falling to the side with Harry’s lips nibbling his neck, “we're gonna do this again at my place. And then we'll see who wins.”

Harry hummed into another kiss, Louis’ fingers tracing hypnotizing circles on his scalp. He squeezed him and gripped his arse, their lips growing wetter. 

“Whatever you want.”

Louis smiled at Harry's murmur, his tone borderline purring.

“You're a very smart man,” Louis said, Harry chuckling low in his throat. 

Their kisses softened, their hands lightly stroking skin, instead of twisting and prodding. They were so wrapped up in their own personal Gum Drop Paradise, that they didn't hear Trevor's winced, “Oh, shit, sorry, uh, shit.”

From Trevor's perspective, all he could see was their legs from the knee down. The opening of the castle, where you came inside, was a square just large enough for people to come in. The rest was like a normal wall, the castle wall blocking the rest of them. The noises, and Louis' toes wedged up the ankles of Harry's jeans, told him all he needed to know.

Trevor cleared his throat, adding a loud, “Food's ready, mates,” for good measure.

Their lazy rubbing halted. Within seconds, their bodies were pulled behind the wall of the entrance. Louis' flushed face peeked around the opening.

“Sorry,” Trevor said before he could speak, holding his hands out, his face tight and red. “We don't usually have this with the kids and I, uh, yeah, don't know how to, uh, so sorry to interrupt.” 

“No worries at all. Thanks for letting us know,” Louis said, nodding, tone and demeanour professional as if he was filing documents in the office. He smiled calmly, his hair standing straight up and the neckline of his tee stretched over his right shoulder. “We'll be right there.”

Harry's voice came from behind the wall to say, “This place is top notch, by the way.”

. . .

 

“Oh, please, don't stop—Please—Harry—”

Louis' back arched off the bed, metal clanking against his headboard. Harry pressed his biceps against his pillow, Louis' wrists straining against the metal binding him to the frame. 

“Fucking hell,” Harry moaned, pistoning his hips faster, Louis crying out.

Sweat dripped off Harry’s forehead and onto Louis' cheek, their lips biting together. Louis started to tremble and arch under him, the damp skin of his chest like a magnet for Harry's tongue. He flickered his tongue at the salty dip of his throat. 

“Oh, God, don’t stop,” Louis shivered, legs holding Harry tighter. “Fuck, fuck, fucking God, Harry!”

“I love wrestling with you when it ends with you cuffed to the bed.”

Louis' eyes rolled back in his head, his fingers clenching the headboard when Harry's biting mouth snarled just beside his nipple, sucking hot, rough kisses up to his neck. The growls he made each time he sucked skin into his mouth made Louis whimper even higher, their thrusts extra rough for each growled kiss. 

“I let you win,” Louis managed to gasp out, a hint of a smile on his face.

Harry slowed his thrusts, using his weight to pin Louis' body as he ground against him.

“Excuse me?”

“I let you win.”

“Say that again,” Harry said, the growled tone of his moans carrying over to his wrecked voice. “I fucking dare you.”

“I let,” Louis paused, panting, sweat glistening on his temples, “you win.”

Harry gripped his arse and pulled his hips back. 

“Yeah?”

Louis tightened around him, his legs grappling to hold onto Harry’s sweaty skin.

“No, no, don't stop,” Louis said quickly, shaking his head. Harry was all but out of him, Harry just barely brushing his fingertips over the angry red skin of his swollen head. Louis' eyes fluttered and he whispered, “Please, keep fucking me--Fuck, don't stop,” his voice raspy, his stomach muscles clenching while his hips moved to keep contact.

“Did I pin you fair and square?”

Louis' innocent facade faded, a grin stretching over his face.

“Nope.”

Harry slammed into him and Louis laughed, holding onto the headboard as his body was pummeled up the bed. Harry held his hips down and pounded thrust after thrust, Louis crying out his name louder and louder.

Louis’ body tightened and trembled and arched until Harry moaned against his cheekbone, the sound so guttural and masculine and perfectly Harry. 

Harry gripped the back of his hair and pulled, biting down on the right side of his neck and saying something that sounded like, “You drive me fucking wild,” in Louis’ ear, the grit of his voice and the following hard pull of his hair just enough to send Louis tumbling into orgasm.

. . .

Louis came out of the bathroom and sat cross-legged on his side of the bed. He opened the drawer of his bedside table, pulling out a tube of hand lotion.

“I wonder if your bedtime routine will ever not be arousing to me?”

He smiled and looked at Harry, who was topless and lounging on his back, the duvet just above his navel. A paperback book of word search puzzles for children that Louis had purchased for one of his sister’s visits was resting face down on the centre of his chest, a pencil tucked behind his ear.

“Yeah, because obviously me removing my contacts is sexy as hell.”

“It is,” Harry insisted, prompting a giggle from Louis. Louis squirted some lotion on his palm. Harry propped his right hand behind his head, bending his legs under the duvet. “You'd be surprised.”

“Oh, baby, you wanna watch me touch my eyeballs?” Louis said, his voice gruff, rubbing his hands together. He rubbed lotion up to his wrists. “Get them nice and wet for you?”

Harry laughed, dropping his book on his bedside table with the pencil as a place marker. He rolled onto his side and took Louis' hand in both of his, thumbing the lotion in a slow circle over his palm. Louis opened his mouth, but no words came out, his gaze dropping to where Harry was massaging his hand.

“I’m glad we got see each other tonight, even if just for a couple of hours,” Harry said softly, switching hands. He massaged the top of Louis’ hand, tracing over the thin bones. He thumbed his middle knuckle. “This week was so busy for both of us.” He smiled at Louis, resuming the slow circles to his palm. “Flew by.”

“I know,” Louis said, finding his voice again. He pushed the duvet down with his feet and moved his legs underneath. Harry placed his hand on the bed, reaching down to pull the covers up over him. Harry patted the duvet over Louis’ upper ribs. “Hopefully next week we can see each other more.”

Harry picked up his hand, smoothing his thumbs along Louis’ lifeline. 

“Yeah, hopefully.”

Louis watched Harry’s fingers smoothing over his hands, the lotion all but gone. Harry’s eyes lulled, but he didn’t move to stop massaging. Louis reached backwards with his free hand and hit the switch that controlled both bedside lamps. Harry’s heavy eyes looked up at the change in light, his massage strokes slowing. Louis tilted his head and smiled, catching Harry’s gaze.

“Tell me about your week,” Louis whispered, moving closer under the covers. “The bits you couldn’t say in a text or with Emoji.”

Harry stopped massaging, Louis’ hand still between both his his hands. He opened his mouth to speak, but yawned instead.

“How did I know you would say that?” Louis asked, amused. “Sleepy bunny.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry widened his eyes and blinked rapidly, “I’m not that tired. I’ll stay up.”

“You were up at one billion in the morning today,” Louis said, moving his hands to Harry’s chest. “Go to sleep.” He smoothed his palms down to his stomach, then slid them back up to about nipple height, kissing the front of his throat. “We can talk in the morning.”

“But I love talking to you,” Harry said, his eyes lulling shut. “Wanna hear about your week, too.”

“Oh, you know, same old, same old. Lots of computer time. Finished up a campaign." He took his glasses off. "Had my meals almost exclusively from the free snacks at the office because I was basically sleeping there.” He placed his glasses on his bedside table and rolled back into Harry's waiting arms. "Talked with Simon about a sort of...Thing with my position. But the week was mostly about the snacks."

“Mmm, snacks,” Harry mumbled, his eyes fully shut, his face tucked next to Louis’ on his pillow. Louis’ fingers stroked over his hair, his feet tucked between Harry’s ankles. “You’ll get to hear my snore.”

“Go to sleep, sugar plum,” Louis’ voice licked over Harry’s brain. “We’ll talk in the morning when you make me a gourmet breakfast.”

Harry smiled, his breaths growing more rhythmic and soft. 

“Mmm.”

Without speaking, Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s body. He nudged his groin against Harry’s hip. Harry took a deep breath in through his nose and shifted onto his side under the duvet, his back to Louis. 

Harry looked over his shoulder and smiled with his eyes half shut. Louis nudged his face closer, warmly sucking Harry’s lips for one long, lingering second. 

Their lips came apart with a faint slipping sound, Harry’s eyes fully shut and his smile even dreamier. Harry sighed and curled on his side, Louis’ arms tight around his middle.

“Night, Harry,” Louis whispered, smoothing his hair off his forehead. Harry felt Louis take a breath in his curls, his distant voice adding, “Sleep well.”

. . . 

“You’re so gifted,” Louis said, his hands over his stomach and his eyes shut. He tilted his head back, licking the remnants of syrup off his bottom lip. “I don’t understand how you make such good French toast.”

“It’s all about the bread,” Harry said from the sink. “You’ve got to have a good foundation. Plus,” he lowered his voice, “I put an unhealthy amount of sugar and full cream in the egg mixture, so,” he shrugged, “that sort of helps.”

“It’s like carb crack.”

Harry laughed and padded over to the kitchen table. He topped off Louis’ coffee cup, emptying the pot into his mug. He glanced at the microwave.

“What time do you have to go to the office?”

“Don’t have to today.”

Harry’s brows rose. He sank into his chair, crossing his ankles under the table.

“You’re free the whole day?” 

Louis held his arms out at his sides, still in his reclined position. Though he had his eyes closed, he could feel the heat of Harry’s eyes tracing over his bare arms, a loose white tank draped over his torso.

“Free as a bird.”

Harry licked syrup off his thumb, his eyes brightening.

“I thought you said you’d be super swamped with work this weekend.”

“I managed to finish most of my stuff yesterday and I can’t be arsed to do anything until Monday.” He opened his eyes, smiling at Harry. “I’m all yours for the day, if you want to hang out.” 

“Have you ever played tennis?”

Louis’ smile went lopsided, his face tilting to the side. 

“Um, yeah, but not in a million years.” He sipped his coffee. “I played when I was younger. In school, you know?”

Harry folded his hands on the table top, his bum perched on the very end of his chair.

“Do you want to play with me today?”

“I don't think there's a physical activity you could name that I wouldn't want to play with you.”

Harry's dimples popped out, his head shaking.

“You have a filthy mind. I truly mean play tennis. The weather's perfect today and it's a really short drive to get to a park with courts.”

“Do you have an extra racquet I could borrow?”

“Sure!”

Louis narrowed his eyes, lips plumping forward.

“Have you been planning our tennis adventure? Your question was awfully quick.”

“No, not exactly,” Harry said, his face flushing sweet pink while he smiled. “The weather truly is starting to lighten up. I really like playing and I really like spending time with you, so it’s like a fantasy combo for me.”

“Can we get ice cream after?”

Harry deadpanned, “I’m hard.”

Louis burst out laughing, Harry laughing softer from across the table. Harry stood up and took Louis’ empty plate.

“I have a couple of racquets in the car and you can definitely borrow one.” He tossed his napkin on top. “I'll even give you the better one.”

“Nuh uh,” Louis said, shaking his head. He picked up Harry’s plate before he could grab it. “I'm not going to take any sort of advantage. When I beat you, it'll be fair and square.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, smile growing.

“Beat me? I thought you haven't played in years?”

Louis patted his bum through his sweats, moving towards the dishwasher.

“Doesn't mean I still can't beat you.” 

Harry touched the centre of his forehead, humming like a Buddhist monk while he walked to the sink.

“I'm seeing a naked meal prepared by you in the very near future.”

. . .

Harry placed a plate on top of his island. He held his palm out towards the dish, moving from item to item.

“Roast chicken with a sweet apple chutney, red potato mash, and extra cheesy broccoli with crunchy bread crumbs on top. As requested.”

Louis rubbed his hands together, biting his bottom lip and smiling.

“Looks perfect, thanks so much. Smells amazing.”

Harry laid a towel on the stool across from him. He sat down. A crisp white apron was tied behind his neck, the top panel just barely covering his chest. He placed a napkin over his legs, shifting on the stool.

“You're a sneaky one, aren't you?” Harry said, holding his wine glass up. 

Louis clinked his their glasses together, smiling at the ping. He placed his glass on the island and lifted his napkin, laying it over his lap.

“I told you I played tennis when I was younger.” He lifted his fork, eyes shimmering mischievously at Harry. “I didn’t lie.”

Harry cut into his chicken, shaking his head but smiling.

“True. However,” he speared a bite of chicken, “you didn't tell me that your childhood neighbour was a professional tennis coach who took a shine to you.”

Louis swallowed a sip of wine. 

“I told you that afterwards in the car.”

“Or that he'd have you assist at his practices and then coach you afterwards. You’re basically a secret athlete.”

“You never asked,” Louis said, smiling wider. “I was basically just a ball boy.”

“Still are.”

“And, excuse me...” Louis raised his eyebrows and twirled the end of his fork towards Harry. “As per our agreement?”

Harry sighed, rolling his eyes, lips unable to hold back his huffed smile. He untied the string behind his neck and let the apron fall down the front of his body. He pushed it down until the fabric folded to the floor. He held his arms out.

“Happy?”

“Mmm, very,” Louis said, forking apple chutney on top of his chicken. “Besides, the only reason I won was because I caught you off guard for the first set.” He popped the bite into his mouth, chewing and humming in pleasure. “You’ll probably beat me next time. Fuck me, this chutney.” He sucked on the prongs of his fork. “I wanna spread it on your nipples and eat it off.”

“So, you’d want to play again?” Harry asked, excitement lighting his face. “And, hello,” he gestured to his bare chest, “they’re right here, if you need them.”

“Of course. I haven’t played with someone who could push me in years.” Louis rubbed his foot against the side of Harry’s bare leg. “Was incredible.”

. . . 

Harry held the door open for Louis with his left hand, his right hand clutching the wooden stick at the end of a grape ice lolly. 

Louis walked past him and softly said, “Thanks,” his lips shining pink from his raspberry pop. 

They both fell into step as they left the medical office, their hips bumping and mouths smiling around their respective icy treats, matching plasters smoothed over their arms.

. . .

“You got a delivery.”

Harry shut the door to his flat, blinking at Niall. He dropped his rucksack by the door.

“What?”

“You got a delivery and I put it in your room,” Niall repeated, his mouth touching the rim of a neon purple coffee mug as he spoke. He groaned and rubbed his fingers over his forehead, his wide sunglasses slumping down the bridge of his nose. “Fucking hell,” he whispered, sipping his black coffee. “Claire and her scotch.” He held his stomach, Harry amusedly watching his entire display while taking his boots off. “Disgusting, evil liquid.”

“Want me to make you a bacon sarnie?”

“No, no, no, I can’t eat,” Niall said, resting his face on the table. 

“Do you wanna get burgers with me and Louis after yoga?”

“Ugh, get out of here with your food chatter,” Niall said, his face turning chartreuse. He could feel Harry smiling at him, but the overall wooziness of his hangover eliminated any ability to feel embarrassed. “I love you, but, ugh,” he dry heaved, “you stink of cupcakes and I’m going to hurl.” He pulled his hoodie over his head, his sunglasses off kilter on his face. He squinted one exhausted eye at Harry. “Remember me when I’ve passed to the other side.”

Harry laughed as quietly as he could and squeezed Niall’s shoulder. 

“I’ll make us tea.”

“Go see your delivery. Then tea.”

Harry’s brows furrowed, his hand dropping from Niall’s shoulder.

“I didn’t order anything.”

“Maybe it was sent from heaven.” He squinted both eyes at Harry, his face even greener. “Where I, hopefully, will soon be.”

Harry laughed again, louder, and adjusted Niall’s sunglasses, pushing them back up his nose.

“Alright, I’ll go see.”

He walked across the living room and pushed his bedroom door open. He saw no packages, but there was a human sized lump curled up in the middle of his bed, soft looking caramel hair fanned out on his white pillow. He gasped and ran at the bed, jumping on top.

“I’ve got a Louis in my bed,” he said, shaking Louis’ bum, bouncing his knees.

Louis started to laugh as his body was jostled, his hands pushing Harry’s fingers away from his sides.

“That’s how you wake up a guest?” he grumbled, huffing but still giggling. “Where are your manners?”

“I’m very rude.”

Louis rolled onto his back and opened his eyes, Harry’s ecstatic, smiling face the first thing he saw. He laughed, “Hello, there,” and stroked his cheek, Harry straddling him on top of the duvet. 

Harry leaned down and kissed him, kissing the tip of his nose quickly. Louis’ nose wrinkled while he smiled, Harry grinning and kissing it again.

“I thought you couldn’t get here until after five.”

“The internet went down in the office and Simon declared, ‘Fuck it. Go home." Louis' mouth stretched in a yawn. “Sent everyone home early, so I figured I’d just come here and wait for you. Niall said you wouldn’t be home for a bit, so I thought I’d snooze.” He pulled Harry’s hand towards his face, sniffing the underside of his wrist. “Mmm,” he kissed his pulse there, “you smell like heaven.”

. . .

Louis pulled the door to his building shut with his right hand, his left hand holding an umbrella open over his head. He patted his front pocket for his keys. There was a loud whistle behind him. He grinned, shaking his head before turning around.

“Hello, gorgeous,” Harry said out the open passenger's side window, grinning just as wide as Louis was with black wayfarers perched on his nose. His voice barely carried over the pounding rain. “Hop in.”

Louis ran down the stairs and hurried to Harry's car. He opened the door and jumped inside, shaking his umbrella out the door.

“Thanks for driving,” Louis said, pulling the door shut.

“Yeah, no problem,” Harry said, pulling away from Louis' building. He pushed his sunglasses up his face to hold his hair back and turned the windshield wipers onto a higher setting. “This weather is awful.”

“I know.”

The car slowed to a halt. Louis leaned over the centre console and cupped Harry's cheek, Harry smiling and turning his head in time for Louis to kiss his lips.

“Mmm, hello,” Harry murmured, opening his lips on top of Louis' for a slow suck. “Toothpaste.”

“The light's green,” Louis said softly, pecking him one final time.

“Pesky light,” Harry said, pretending to grumble.

Louis giggled and moved back into his seat. He sat on one foot and placed his hand on Harry's inner thigh, rubbing to his knee. Harry bit his bottom lip and spread his leg closer to the console. Louis’ hand rubbed without thought while he peered out the window.

They drove three blocks in silence, rain pounding in sheets against the car windows.

“I love that you do that,” Harry said, eyes darting from the road to Louis’ face.

Louis hummed, the tone going upwards.

“Do what?”

“That,” Harry said, nodding downwards. “You do that every time we're in the car and I really love it.”

Louis watched his own hand rubbing Harry’s thigh, as if it was disconnected from the rest of his body. 

“I do?” He pulled his hand back. “And you do?” He replaced his hand, rubbing twice before he got his rubbing rhythm back. “Like it, I mean.”

“Mmhmm. I really like it.”

“Oh,” Louis said, dragging his fingernails against Harry’s inner seam. His muscles felt bouncy beneath his fingers, his skin warming the rough fabric. “I’m...Glad.”

Harry smiled and glanced at Louis, turning the heat off.

“Maybe, if the weather lets up, we can walk around some of the little shops before lunch. Or the market.”

“That sounds lovely,” Louis said, stilling his hand on Harry’s leg. The car stopped, horns honking around them. He dug the back of his head into the leather seat. “Though I might not want to eat lunch if I eat my normal quantity of free samples from all the booths.”

They made it all of two blocks before Harry had to stop again. Harry craned his neck to the side and clicked his tongue. Flashing lights swirled into the car.

Harry said, “Oh no. Looks like an accident up ahead.”

Louis sat up straighter in his seat, his hand involuntarily squeezing Harry's thigh.

“Yeah, shit, yikes.”

“Yeah, shit, yikes,” Harry repeated, laughing each word. Louis smiled and wiggled his thumb into Harry's knee. “Such poetry.”

Someone behind them honked suddenly, the loud sound making both jump in their seats. Then another horn honked, a tendon in Harry's neck twitching.

“Jesus, these people,” Harry said, his legs shifting in place. His voice lowered to a murmur. “As if the person who got into an accident is purposely holding up traffic. They’re probably having a pretty bad day.”

Louis squinted across at him, his lips pursed forward.

“Are you okay?”

Harry looked at him and smiled, but the corners of his mouth pinched.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I just get antsy when I have to sit in the car for a while like this. A bit claustrophobic. People drive even crazier in this weather, you know?”

“So, pull over,” Louis said, nodding his head to the left. “Park for a bit until it clears up. Either the weather or the traffic. Whichever happens first.”

“Yeah?”

Louis shrugged one shoulder and nodded.

“Yeah, sure, why not? We could just chill out for a bit. Better to do that than have to sit in traffic all anxious.”

Harry's whole body relaxed, his eyes shimmering even in the grey gloomy light enveloping him.

“Cool.”

He signaled and pulled off the road, parking on a shoulder. A couple of drivers seemed to have a similar idea and parked around them, headlights beaming into Harry’s car. Harry unbuckled his seatbelt and let out a long breath, relaxing in his seat and shutting his eyes. 

Louis sent Liam and Zayn a quick text.

_we’re stuck in traffic and harry pulled over, will let you know when we’re moving again...sry!_

Liam replied first.

**stuck in traffic/doing laundry/listening to CDs?**

Followed by Zayn’s:

**bow chicka wow wow 8===D~~ O: XXX 69696969 yeahhh baybayyy**

Louis smiled down at his phone. He snapped a photo of the rainy traffic jam and sent it to them, along with a message.

_ur both ridic. silencing now. see you soon._

He pocketed his phone and looked over to Harry. He reached out, fingers moving to run through his fringe. The light touch made Harry’s lips curl up at the ends.

“You gonna snooze?”

Harry shook his head.

“No. I can’t sleep.”

“Why?” Louis smoothed his hand over Harry’s cheek, thumbing over his brow. “You still anxious from the traffic?”

“No, I'm just shocked at how smart your idea was.”

“Hey,” Louis said, prodding his stomach. Harry laughed and pushed his hands away, curling in his seat. “My ideas are generally brilliant.”

“True, true.” Harry turned towards him. He scanned from his bare feet up to his torso, landing on his face. “I have an idea, actually.”

“For what?”

“Let's,” Harry's smile grew, “go in the backseat.”

Louis' eyes crinkled, his head tilting.

“Why?”

Harry bit his bottom lip, his gaze lowering to Louis' mouth.

“If we're stuck here, we might as well use the time to the best of our abilities.”

Louis raised his eyebrows.

“Are you suggesting we go in the back seat and make out?” He slipped his feet back into his black Vans. “Like horny teenagers?”

Harry's eyes arched upwards before returning to Louis' face. He hummed while biting his bottom lip, nodding.

“I think I am.”

Louis was still for three seconds before he opened his door, Harry cackling while he got out of his side. They both got into the back seat and pulled the doors shut.

“Ah, forgot to put a playlist on,” Harry said, leaning through the two front seats. He flicked around his iPhone until he reached his most recently curated playlist. “Hey,” he laughed, Louis' fingers digging into his sides. “I'll be right there.”

Louis bit the back of Harry's neck, just a playful nip before kissing behind his ear.

“Is this playlist called Harry's Snog Megamix 2014?”

Harry dropped his phone on the driver's seat. The Beatles song I Want You started to play through the speakers. He turned around and watched Louis slink into the far corner of the backseat. Louis’ hand ran through his hair, mussing it, his eyes curved.

“Well?” Louis asked, raising one eyebrow. His eyes scanned Harry’s body, finally landing on his face. “Do you want me or not?”

Harry crawled on top, Louis’ legs butterflying around him. One of Harry’s hands cradled his face, another hand flattened on Louis’ lower back. Harry leaned forward forward, opening their mouths together with a wet suck, Louis’ tongue tenderly licking into his mouth. They both nudged their faces forward at the same time, their head tilts moving in unison for another hot suck.

“I want you,” Harry whispered along with the music, sliding one hand to Louis’ arse. 

“You want me so bad?” Louis breathed to the music, panting hot breaths against Harry’s puffy lips.

Harry’s voice purred from the back of his throat to whisper, “It’s driving me mad, it’s driving me mad,” as if he was singing along, his singing voice a low, deep murmur. 

He leaned in, but pulled back when Louis lifted his head, their lips just missing each other. Louis huffed softly and the right side of Harry’s mouth quirked, Louis squirming beneath him. 

Harry thumbed Louis’ cheekbone, slotting their lips together. Louis wrapped his arms around his back, curling one leg around Harry’s thighs, fingers digging between his shoulder blades while Harry tongued him slowly to the music, their lower bodies rubbing together even slower.

Two songs later and the windows were already steamed up, a fresh bite of red standing out on Louis’ pulse point with Harry working hard on a matching suck beside his Adam’s apple. Harry unbuttoned the first button of Louis’ shirt, quickly popping the next two while still sucking, breathing louder through his nose. Louis smiled, biting his bottom lip when he felt the sting of Harry’s teeth pinching his skin.

“Getting handsy, Harold?” He arched under him, pushing Harry’s peacoat off his shoulders. He smoothed his hands over his chest. “My mum warned me about boys like you.”

Harry laughed lowly, the sound reverberating through Louis’ entire body. He lifted his face and licked his lips, half-lidded eyes glued to Louis' mouth. He watched Louis' fingers pluck open the front of his loose white and black button-down.

“The last time this song was on and we were in this car," Harry paused and smiled, their eyes locking, "we hadn't kissed yet."

Louis listened, recognizing it as the song [I Wanna Be Yours](%E2%80%9C) by the Arctic Monkeys. He slipped his right hand under Harry's shirt, rubbing the pads of his fingers over Harry's nipple. He pinched his fingers. There was an immediate hitch in Harry's breath, alone with a slight inwards twitch of his eyebrows.

"How times have changed, yeah?" Louis said, lightly dragging his fingernails over the same spot.

Harry nodded, lowering his face, his expression bordering on pain.

"Now I can't stop kissing you," he said, voice raspy. He brought their lips together, Louis' fingers involuntarily squeezing his nipple when Harry pressed harder against him. "Feel like I'm addicted to you."

. . .

“Alright, we’ve got fifteen minutes to scrub up, get dressed, and get to Chandelier,” Harry said through the black fabric of his shirt, his words muffled. “Think we can do it?” His head popped out, Louis’ eyes hazy and centred on his torso. Harry looked down at his own chest. “What’s with the look?”

“Nothing, nope,” Louis said, snapping his gaze up. He smiled and unbuttoned his jeans. “We can definitely meet that goal.”

Harry smiled and pulled his cupcake shower curtain aside.

“Cool.”

He turned the water on, the sound of Louis’ clothes hitting the floor overpowered by the creaky pipes pumping water.

Harry got in first, making quick work of washing his hair. He was already rinsing off conditioner when Louis got in the tub.

“Bit tighter than your shower,” Harry said, hugging the wall with his back.

Louis giggled and tried to get to the soap, Harry’s cock bumping his stomach. He palmed him once, letting his cock bob in the air.

“Someone is taking up a lot of room,” he prodded Harry’s groin, “hmm?”

Harry bit his bottom lip while he smiled, cock swaying between them.

“I’ll try to keep myself under control once we’re clothed.”

Louis dunked himself under the water, his back to Harry.

“Good plan.”

“Shit, Louis,” Harry said quickly, his demeanour shifting from playful to horrified. Louis opened his eyes under water and looked to him over his shoulder, Harry’s lips pursed forward and his fingers lightly touching the back of Louis’ right hip. “What happened here?” His gaze darted between Louis’ face and his lower body, his eyes radiating concern. “What is this?”

“What?”

“This scrape,” Harry said, bending his head down. He traced over the broken skin, fingertips barely touching three distinct marks and the irritated redness beside each scrape. “It looks like it was nasty. Are you alright?”

“Oh, that,” Louis said, scrubbing his hands over his scalp. “I played footie the other day for the Simone team. A guy from the other team accidentally spiked me. Complete accident. Wasn’t too terrible, and the other player is the one who looked sick from the whole thing. I’ve definitely experienced worse.” 

“Wait, you had a game?”

“Mmhmm,” Louis hummed, nodding. He rubbed his hands through his hair, clearing the last of his conditioner, his eyes shut tight. “Friday after work.”

Harry's hand fell from Louis' waist. 

“Oh.”

Louis' eyes opened at the exhalation of one word from Harry's lips. He turned around, his brows twitched together. 

“What's up?” Louis asked, squeezing his fingers over his nose. “You look weird.”

“Why didn't you tell me you had a game?”

“Oh, uh,” Louis blinked, “I didn't...I didn't think you'd care.”

Harry's expression grew a touch more wounded, though he smiled and shook his head.

“A chance to see you running around in football gear?” Harry raised his eyebrows. “Why on earth would I not want to go to that?”

Louis' voice was caught in his throat on some phantom sort of mutant phlegm, his words heavy when he finally spit out, “I didn't think you'd want to go.”

“Who all was there?”

“Just work people, mostly. And...” Two seconds of a pause passed, Harry’s rapt, wide-eyed attention causing guilt and realization to dawn on Louis in one heavy lump at the bottom of his gut. “And,” his stomach clenched for Harry's facial reaction, “Liam.”

Harry nodded, his smile crumbling from the corners of his mouth first. He reached for his body wash, a new, weaker smile pasted on his face and his gaze directed down at the gurgling drain.

“Cool. Did you win?”

“I'm sorry,” Louis said to Harry's back, watching water cascade between his shoulder blades. “I should have asked if you wanted to come, but I didn't even...I'm...” He sighed and dropped his head. “I have a two-part reason for not asking.”

Harry turned around while rubbing a soapy pink loofa under his left arm. He raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You don't have to explain anything to me,” Harry said, rinsing himself under the stream of water. “You don't have to feel bad.”

“But I do, and you're right.”

The right side of Harry’s mouth rose.

“I quite like this incarnation of Louis.”

“Shush,” Louis laughed, prodding his navel. Harry smiled with both sides of his mouth and crunched his stomach, flipping soap suds at Louis' face. “You want to hear my reasons?”

“Your duo of reasons?”

“Yes.”

“Of course.”

Louis took a big breath. He steeled himself, holding his hands out in front of him. He rotated his right wrist until his palm faced up.

“The first reason is that it was sort of an impromptu thing. The weather's getting decent and sometimes the offices just decide to play with no real schedule or notice. You mentioned that you had a dermatologist's appointment after work on Friday and then would probably take a nap until we did dinner, so I figured you were busy.”

Now realization took its turn dawning on Harry, his expression brightening.

“You remembered I said I had a dermatologist's appointment?”

Louis' eyes crinkled, his left hand flattening on Harry's curved hip.

“I do pay attention sometimes, you know.”

“I know, I know, I just…” Harry laughed, his smile bashful. “I mentioned that, like, a million years ago. I would have forgotten about the appointment if I hadn’t set an alert in my phone.”

“I'm a surprisingly good listener.”

“Yeah, you are,” Harry said softly, the normal glow of his eyes returning. “Reason two?”

“Right.” Louis flipped his left palm, both hands now palm up. “So, the second reason is because...” He started to grin, but he rubbed his hand over his mouth. Harry nudged his cock with his fist, water still misting around them. “This is embarrassing, but,” he took another quick breath, “it was our first game back for the season and I didn't…” He squinted, wrinkling his nose. “I figured I'd be kind of shit.” 

Harry burst out laughing, water spraying off his lips into Louis’ face. 

“You can’t be serious!”

Louis laughed, “It's true! I was way out of practice. And I didn't want your first memory of me on the pitch being me making an arse of myself.”

“Oh, my God,” Harry drawled, grinning wide, his head shaking side to side. “I can’t believe you.”

Louis pushed himself up onto the balls of his feet, his fingers carding through the back of Harry’s hair.

“I promise I’ll invite you to to the next one, even if it’s short notice.” He dropped his head to the side and pressed his lips to Harry’s, his mouth opening just enough for Louis’ tongue to lick inside. “Then you can hang with Liam and the other WAGs.” 

Harry’s eyes fluttered open, his chest filling with warmth and his gaze going gooey. He stuttered out a happy, “Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis said, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I promise.”

There was a loud banging on the door just as their lips almost met again. Louis lowered himself to his normal height but lost his balance, falling backwards against the wall. 

“You alright?” Harry asked amusedly, steadying him. He rubbed the back of Louis’ head. “Took a little bump there.”

“Yeah, fine, thanks,” Louis said with a small smile, standing up straight.

“We’ll be right out,” Harry called over the pounding.

The door cracked open.

“Sorry to interrupt, lovelies, but we’ve got drinks to drink and I sort of stink,” Niall’s voice said cheerfully. “I believe that’s a shower, not a conference room.” He opened the door a touch wider, his voice clearer to say, “Unless things are that different in Ireland? Have I been showering wrong this whole time?” He shook his fist through the crack. “Harold, how could you not tell me?”

. . . 

 

“That was such a shit call and you know it.”

“You're right, but c'mon,” Louis said, rolling his eyes towards Harry. “They're the home team. Of course they're going to have a major advantage.”

Harry's throat bobbed, the very last of his beer sucked out of the bottle and through his lips. He grunted and nodded with beer in his mouth, leaning forward. He swallowed, leaving the bottle on his coffee table. 

“Maybe. But it's still frustrating, as a viewer, to feel like the deck is so heavily stacked.”

“No wonder you're a House Stark person,” Louis said, turning to face him. He sat on one foot and patted Harry's thigh. “So noble and good.” He stroked the top of Harry's head, running his fingers through his hair. “Such luxurious locks.”

Harry grinned and leaned into his touch.

“And what house are you, then? House Martell?”

“I'd say so. Dorne is clearly the place to be. Lots of sex and wine and sunshine. I don't know why you'd want to live in Winterfell, especially with those big old icy feet you've got.”

“They're not icy,” Harry said with a smile, gently prodding Louis' ribs. “At least, not when you're in bed with me.” His palm lingered on Louis' front, rubbing warm stroked over his stomach. His voice softened to add, “Then they're quite comfortable.”

Louis shook his head, dropping his gaze. Harry tipped his chin up.

“What?” Harry asked, smiling lopsided and tilting his head. “What's up?”

“Nothing, I was just...Was just thinking about how...Even though we're, uh...” He smiled wider and shook his head, Harry's fingers still touching his chin. “Sometimes, when I'm not in bed with you, my feet feel...” He rolled his eyes and laughed out a huffed breath. “A bit lonely.” He blinked once at Harry. “Without your feet there to keep them company. Which is ridiculous, because feet don't have feelings. Feet are feet. And I--”

Louis' words were cut off by Harry gently kissing him on the lips. Harry's hands cupped his jaw, their heads tilting and lips brushing together again. Harry pulled back less than an inch, Louis licking his lips, his eyes shut and his brows raised. Harry's left hand flattened on Louis' lower back, his arm curling around his body. His right hand still cradled his cheek, fingers stroking the hair over Louis' ear.

“C'mere,” Harry whispered, his mouth curving upwards.

Louis opened his eyes as he leaned into him, his left hand moving to the side of Harry's neck. He bent his knees, his legs tucked to the side but up on the sofa. Harry touched his cheek just as softly as he brushed his lips to Louis' mouth.

“You could tell me your little fingernail feels lonely,” Harry said, running his nose along Louis’ cheekbone, “and I’d still do whatever I could to make it smile.”

Louis smiled and leaned into his touch.

“Little fingernails don’t have teeth.”

“They don’t?” Harry asked obliviously, prompting Louis to smile wider.

“Niall won’t be home until much later, right?” Louis asked, their noses rubbing together.

“Yeah, why?”

Harry sucked just Louis' top lip, kissing the corner of his mouth before sucking on the bottom lip. Louis’ hazy eyes fluttered to maintain eye contact.

Louis murmured, “I kind of want to just snog you for a while on the couch.”

Harry breathily laughed out, “Okay, cool,” and pulled Louis into his lap.

. . .

AN: Overall song I thought of for this section: Go Slow, by Haim.

Harry held the door to his building open, shouting over the rain, “C’mon, killer, almost there!”

“You’re sick!” Louis yelled as he ran by, his arms folded over his head. He shook his hair at Harry’s face. “You’re a sick man, you physical fitness freak.”

Harry laughed and followed behind him, the door slamming at the same time as a clap of thunder.

“That was a short adventure,” Harry said, shaking his own hair out. He wiggled his thumb into his right ear. He tapped his left ear and shook his head to the right. “Short but sweet.”

“Who voluntarily runs in rainstorms?” Louis said, jogging up the steps.

Harry’s feet started to pound up the steps behind him.

"It was only a light drizzle."

Louis’ pace picked up, Harry hot on his heels.

“We might as well have swam laps in your bathtub. I told you we should have brought an umbrella.”

“Who runs with an umbrella? That would look bizarre.”

“Sane people.”

“It’s refreshing.”

Louis smiled over his shoulder and saw Harry was already grinning at him, his curls dripping onto his bare shoulders, his abs panting against the wet material of his white tank. Uncontrollable fondness warmed Louis’ body, a fresh wave of arousal enveloping him a split second later. The feelings brewing in him threatened to cause all the rain clinging to his skin to evaporate, creating a tiny rain forest in the stairwell of Harry’s building.

“Almost there,” Harry said, patting his bum. He nudged his chin forward, Louis turning around and continuing to jog up the steps. “Should I sing the theme to Rocky to get you pumped?”

Pained and holding his side, Louis said, “Please don’t.” 

Harry laughed loudly, gripping the bannister for support, his body bent over while he laughed. Louis bounced up the last few steps. He waited in front of the door with his arms crossed over his chest.

“That wasn’t even that funny,” Louis said, laughing despite his statement. 

“It was the quickness of it,” Harry said, still giggling. He wiped his right hand over his wet face, his left hand pushing his key into the lock. “Everything you say makes me laugh.”

Louis followed him into the flat. They stood by the door, toeing their trainers off. Louis’ black trainers made a loud squelching noise against the hardwood floor; Harry fell into the wall while taking off his left Nike, his eyes as bright as the neon yellow trainer. Their laughter was breathy as they balled up their socks and plopped them on their bundle of trainers, both still panting.

Louis pulled his sopping wet shirt away from his chest, rolling it up his front. He lifted his arms and tugged, his shirt snagged on his upper back. He bent over and pulled again. When the shirt dragged over his head, it took his hair with it, the damp strands spiking up. 

Once free of the material, he saw Harry walking into his bedroom, his white shirt clinging to his spine. The straight line led to the swell of his arse, his black running shorts hugging every curve. The hairless backs of his knees were shimmery compared to the darkened hair that dusted his calves.

Harry glanced over his shoulder, his face flushed, a smile playing at his lips.

He said, "Niall's out until late,” and turned away from Louis, running his fingertips over his open bedroom door as he walked inside. 

Louis' feet moved him across the room without thought, leaving wet ghost footprints in a path on the hardwood floor. 

“Bloody whipped, Tomlinson,” he whispered to himself. He stepped over the bedroom threshold. With his normal voice, he said, “I should have known the storm would get you going,” and pulled the door shut.

He turned towards the bed and was met by Harry’s body, firm and hot and and overwhelming, clinging to him like rain water. Their lips fused together in a sucked, sudden kiss, the dull patter of rain against the bedroom window melting into the background. 

The palms of Harry’s hands warmed Louis’ skin, searing paths up his bare chest to cup his face. Harry shifted his angle and opened their mouths together, his tongue pushing inside. Louis’ fingers faltered on Harry’s hips, his eyes blinking slowly as he wound his fingers in the wet material of his tank, his mouth gasping for breath.

Harry went in again, needing to feel more of Louis’ smooth lips giving way under the pressure of his kisses. Louis’ body clung to his, one of his hands grasping the back of Harry’s tank while the other curled underneath, rubbing his hip.

Harry walked backwards towards the bed, their lips still sucking open mouthed kisses, Louis gripping his tank tighter.

“Really got you going, then,” Louis said, laughing almost silently and panting again. 

The room was quiet but felt full, the soft sounds of their kisses, and even quieter sliding of hands over wet skin, filling the air around their heated bodies.

Harry tightened his hold around Louis' waist but pulled his lips back, Louis mouth pursing forward to follow him.

“Want you inside of me," Harry said, walking backwards. 

Louis' eyes fluttered open, his smile confused and Harry’s curls blocking his view of his face. Harry's voice stood out from their muffled breaths and exhaled whimpers, low and melodic like heavy bubbles snagged in the gauze covering his bedroom.

"I thought you wanted to wait until we got our results," Louis whispered, his head dropping back to allow Harry's tender sucks to his neck. "So we could skip the rubber?"

Harry lifted his lips from Louis' hot skin to murmur, "I don't want to wait anymore." He pushed Louis' running shorts lower on his hips. He gripped the front of his shorts. "I want to feel you stretching me open; wanna feel the weight of you." Louis gasped out a breath, pushing Harry's shirt up his stomach, their feet stumbling to the bed. "Don't care if you have to wear a condom. Just want you." 

Harry pulled his shirt off from the centre of his shoulder blades. The arch and stretch of his long body was only accentuated by the sheen of fresh rain water highlighting every crease and curve of muscle. He shook his hair out and dropped his shirt to the floor, causing another symphony of flexed muscles and stretched skin.

"I've never met someone who looks so beautiful taking off their shirt," Louis said, voice quiet with disbelief. 

Harry smiled and kept eye contact as he sat on the centre of the bed, Louis leaning his left knee on the mattress. He smoothed his hands up the fronts of Harry’s hips, Harry's arms draping around his waist.

Louis brushed their lips together and whispered, "Lie back." He kissed him firmer, voice breathier to add, "So beautiful."

Harry's smile grew, his face flushing pink, his fingertips digging into the small of Louis' back. He obliged, sprawling on his back with his arms stretched over his head. He gripped the headboard and pulled himself a few inches higher, his heels now at the opposite edge of the bed. Louis straddled him, the material of their wet running shorts heating between them.

Louis squinted at Hardy's torso, almost as if he was baffled, his delicate touch mapping out unknown routes with raindrop road markers. Harry's skin shivered and his muscles twitched to meet his touch, his breathing growing shaky with no musical soundtrack but the pounding rain.

His sides. The skin around his nipples (but never his actual nipples). The dip of his throat. Even the soles of his feet and his trembling legs. All of those parts received Louis' exploration, only the more he explored, the more serious he grew, as if Harry's skin wasn't giving him the answers he needed.

Harry whimpered, "Louis, please," and arched under him, Louis' fingers dragging ever so slowly down the divots of his biceps.

Louis' confusion lifted, a smile ghosting over his face. He held Harry's face in his hands.

"Button down, tank, henley, an old t-shirt," Louis said, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to Harry's lips. Harry hummed and relaxed his neck, Louis's thinner lips expertly prying his mouth wider. Then his lips were gone, going on a journey down the centre of his chest. Louis' voice whispered over Harry's right nipple, "Light, dark, patterned, striped."

He laid a wet kiss just above Harry's groin and swirled his tongue into his navel, Harry squirming beneath him with his hands clenching the duvet. 

"Doesn't matter," Louis said, looking up his torso. He shook his head, his lips laying slow, wet kisses up the centre of Harry’s flexing abs. "Dream about how your stomach moves. How your hips curve.” 

He pressed his nose into his skin and dragged it lower, inhaling audibly. Harry exhaled shakily, arching into him. 

“How long your arms are when they're over your head. How strong you are. How you can hold me down, or even just hold me."

His fingertips tickled down the line of hair leading under Harry's shorts, the hard line of his cock pressing the material away from Harry’s body.

"Everything," he said, his voice growing husky. He pushed Harry's shorts down and sucked on the patch of hair just above his groin. “Fuck.” He took another loud breath through his nose, sucking in as much of the scent of rain water mixed Harry’s sweat as he could. He moaned, "The smell of you," as he did it, pressing his nose to the base of his cock.

Harry's arm shot out to the side, his hand practically pulling his bedside table drawer out of the cabinet. He felt Louis chuckling against his skin at the loud banging noise. He gripped lube and a few condoms in his shaking hand and placed them on top of the table, his entire body tensing to close the drawer at a more normal speed. 

Louis reached across his body and took the lube, snagging one condom. He dropped them on the bed, focusing on the remaining clothing between them. He rolled Harry’s shorts and boxers down, stroking over the paler, more tender skin just beneath his waistband. Harry’s cock sprung upwards, Louis kissing the side of his shaft in passing. 

He lifted his own hips and got out of his shorts, tossing their clothing off the side of the bed. He looked around the room, Harry already starting to stroke himself. Louis got up off the bed for only a moment, taking one of Harry’s towels off the back of his door. 

He returned to the bed and patted the flank of Harry’s side. Harry lifted his arse off the bed, Louis smoothing the towel underneath.

“Relax,” he said to Harry, placing a palm in the centre of his chest. 

“I haven’t bottomed in a while.”

“I know.” Louis uncapped the lube, coating his fingers. He smiled down at Harry, gentle and warm. “You told me.”

“Might be a bit awkward, at first.”

“It will be what it will be. And because it’s you, I’ll probably wank to the memory for the rest of my life.” That comment pulled a soft laugh from Harry, his head relaxing on the pillow. “Plus,” Louis brushed their lips together, “you have no trouble with my tongue inside that perfect little bum of yours,” both smiled into another kiss, “so let’s not stress about it.”

He slipped his hand between Harry’s legs, spreading lube over his opening. He recoated his fingers, applying just enough pressure to make Harry shudder. He scooted down the bed and gripped Harry’s cock, pushing his foreskin down, his other hand just massaging between Harry’s cheeks.

Harry’s mouth opened, but his words died on his tongue. Louis suckled at the head of his cock, his middle finger pressing inside. 

Each time he thought he could say something, such as a compliment about Louis’ touch or a comment about how the sun was shining through the rainstorm, Louis would do something else to him that made his body quake, his throat pushing moans out but no discernable words. 

Twice, he tried to tell Louis that he was going to come just from his fingers and mouth, but Louis would pull back and ease his sucks, dexterous fingers bringing him to the edge and back until Harry was covered with sweat, body writhing on the bed.

Before he knew it, Louis was smoothing out on top of him, condom in place and Harry’s body clenching around his phantom fingers.

“Ready, yeah?” he whispered, slotting their lips together.

“Fuck me,” Harry gasped, finally finding words, and Louis smiled, pressing his head inside of him.

It took all of a minute of angle changes, an extra dollop of lube, and two quiet, “Shhh, baby, shhh,” whispers from Louis before it clicked into place.

“Oh, God,” Harry moaned, his eyes squeezing shut, his skin tingling like champagne bubbles. He repeated those two words countless times, his mouth now motoring words where minutes before it was nonfunctional. “Oh, God--Oh--Oh, my--You prepped me so well, I--” 

His fingers clenched in the back of Louis’ hair, Louis bringing their lips together. Louis sucked on his bottom lip, softly biting it and tugging. 

Louis gave him some easy, experimental thrusts, grunting out hot breaths against Harry’s cheek each time. Then the thrusts would speed up, as would the rough breaths shared between them, Harry’s legs lifting to hug Louis’ body. Louis would slow down, rubbing his hands up Harry’s chest to thumb over his nipples, or wrapping his hand around him to stroke him, and speed up, his hips slapping loudly against Harry’s arse.

Their bodies found a rhythm no matter what tempo Louis set, Harry’s legs bent up and almost touching his chest. 

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m superficial,” Louis said, his voice deep and strained, his eyes glued to a trail of sweat working its way down the centre of Harry’s pecs.

Harry’s round, pink lips breathed out, “Why? Fuck, that’s so good, so--” He pressed the back of his head into his pillow, legs shaking around Louis’ waist. He tried to remember what Louis had just said, the pressure building in his lower belly growing too distracting. “Why would you say that?”

“Because you’re gorgeous,” Louis said, his voice breaking to moan. He swallowed, tilting his forehead to rest on Harry’s cheek. His hips thrust faster, his eyes glued to Harry’s sweaty stomach filling and puffing up with air at the same speed. “And I feel shallow because--Because your body turns me on so much.” His hand ghosted over Harry’s chest, fumbling on his cheek. “Because I think your face is so fucking beautiful.”

Harry’s right hand flattened on Louis’ cheek, his left hand gripping his arse and pushing him harder. Louis whimpered low in his throat, the balls of his feet aching from pressing so hard into the mattress, his spine starting to burn with pent up pleasure.

“All of--Of this--” Harry’s eyes flickered down his own body, all the way down to where Louis’ body joined with his. “All of this,” he seared their lips together, breaking their kiss to look at Louis and say, “is yours.”

Louis cried out, ‘Unngh!” from the very pit of his belly, the sound ragged and deep and guttural, his eyes slamming shut.

Harry pressed his face into Louis’ neck and moaned, “It’s yours,” able to hear Louis’ louder wail and feel the vibrations of his chest, their motions bridging on frantic.

Their breathing went wild, heat unfurling through every inch of them. Harry lifted Louis’ right hand off of his cock, placing it palm down over his sweat-slick stomach. Louis’ questioning eyes sought his face, his left arm flexing to support his weight.

All Harry had to say was, “Yours,” and move Louis’ hand up his chest to push Louis over the edge, another painful sounding moan carrying over their gasps.

Louis choked out Harry’s name, his arse clenching as he thrust deeper, his motions slower. He gasped, “Fuck, Harry,” and ground into him, Harry sucking hotly on his lips.

Harry wrapped his arms around Louis, kissing whatever he could get his lips on. His cheek, his spiked hair, his lips. Louis just breathed, his ears ringing and his heart racing. He felt a pounding pressure against his stomach, Harry’s body fluttering around his cock.

He pulled out, using the damp towel under Harry’s bum to remove his condom. He rubbed it over his groin then folded it, placing it beside them.

Louis lifted himself up, his right hand delicate on Harry’s cheek. His gaze flitted over Harry’s face. The easy flush of his cheeks and the plushness of his lips was overruled by the tinge of wanting present in his eyes, his pulse pounding outwards underneath his jaw and his body wound tight.

Louis smiled and dipped his head down, tilting his face to the side. 

“You’re amazing,” he whispered before sealing their lips together. 

He felt Harry smile into their kiss, his body shifting under Louis’ weight. Louis kissed his chin, kissing down the front of his throat. Harry watched Louis sink lower, kisses pressed down his chest and stomach at random. Louis kissed the crease of his thigh, smiling up from between his legs. He eased two fingers inside of of him, Harry’s feet arching and his heels pressing into the mattress. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Louis whispered, the slickness of Harry’s body dripping down his fingers. “Fucking madness.”

Louis sucked his head once and rubbed his finger in a circle inside of Harry, wrapping his other hand around Harry’s cock. He released his cock and licked his lips, massaging his fingers in such a way that Harry whimpered, his body clenching around Louis’ digits. 

Harry’s hips involuntarily followed the shape of his strokes, his cock straining in Louis’ wet fist and his stomach starting to heave. Louis sucked more of him into his mouth, tonguing under his head and hollowing his cheeks.

“Lou,” Harry breathed, his eyes rolling back. He held onto the back of Louis’ head with both hands, Louis’ fingers scratching at the throbbing itch deep inside of him. Harry’s abs trembled, his fingers clenching tighter. “Oh, fuck, Lou--”

Louis pulled his mouth off and removed his fingers.

“Louis, what--” Harry’s eyes popped open. “Why’d you stop?”

Louis held onto Harry’s hips and pulled, tugging his body down the bed. Harry fell flat on his back, his smile shocked. Louis lifted his legs from the backs of his knees, draping his legs over his shoulders. 

Wet fingers slid back between Harry’s cheeks, Louis’ face pressing against Harry’s balls. Harry felt him kissing along his balls and squirmed happily, Louis kissing up his shaft with the same reverence. He flattened his palm on Harry’s stomach, smoothing it up to his chest. 

Louis murmured, “I take care of what’s mine,” and quirked his fingers against Harry’s prostate, tonguing his head. 

Harry’s come splattered over Louis’ lips at the same time as his sudden, pained cry, the muscles of his thighs flexing around Louis’ neck. Louis’ smile grew, his fingers vibrating faster inside of Harry while his tongue lathed the white stickiness spurting on his mouth, licking at Harry’s cock every other second. 

An unknown number of minutes passed where neither could speak, their post-orgasmic breaths growing softer. Harry sprawled on his back with his arms bent above his head. Louis collapsed on top of him, the back of his head tucked into Harry’s neck, their skin melded by sweat.

“Do you not think that your body turns me on?” Harry’s wrecked voice whispered, the rise and fall of his chest causing Louis to lift and lower. “That I don’t think you’re beautiful?”

“It’s not that I necessarily don’t think that, I just...I felt like I was crazy, or something,” Louis admitted, his eyes half open. 

He saw sunshine out the window, birds chirping through the glass. He licked his lips and swallowed, shutting his eyes. 

"It's not crazy. Or superficial. I think it just means we're attracted to each other," Harry said, nuzzling his face into Louis' sweaty hair. "That we sort of like each other."

Louis giggled out, "Yeah, sort of." He held his fingers up and pinched the air. "Just a little."

Harry laughed low in his throat. 

“Sometimes," Louis said softly, "I sit in my office and stare at the wall for half an hour, imagining what you look like naked. What you look like with no shirt on. What you look like fully clothed. And I…” He shook his head slightly, turning onto his stomach and pressing his cheek on Harry's shoulder. His eyes crinkled up at Harry. “I cannot believe I just said that out loud.”

Harry’s right arm lowered and curled around Louis’ body.

“I’m very glad you did,” Harry said, smiling deliriously. He rubbed between his shoulder blades, fingering along the sharp bones. “And…” He giggled, linking one foot around Louis’ ankle. “Your work thoughts are much cleaner than mine, so,” he laughed again, “there’s that.”

Louis’ eyes opened and he hummed. He pushed himself up on one elbow, one eyebrow quirked.

“Yeah?”

Harry nodded, his heavy, satiated gaze scanning over Louis’ face.

“Yup.”

Both of Louis’ brows curved up.

“Can you elaborate?”

Harry smiled, his eyes sparkling. He pinched the inside of his bottom lip between his teeth, sliding his hand down Louis' lower back to palm his arse.

“I can show you, if you’d like.”

Two hours later, they were both asleep, the sun still hanging in the sky, their bodies intertwined under the covers. 

When Harry woke, it was to an empty bed. The spot beside him was still warm, the sun sinking outside his window. 

He saw his bedroom door open and Louis slip inside, shutting the door quietly. He noticed that Louis had a large white plate in his hand, a borrowed pair of black boxer briefs low on his hips.

The warmth of Louis eyes washed over him.

Louis whispered, “You’re up,” and smiled, padding softly on the hardwood. The sound of his footsteps disappeared once he reached the carpet. “Good.”

Harry pushed himself up on his elbows, the white duvet sliding down to his navel. He rubbed his hand over his face.

“Thought you might be hungry,” Louis said, climbing onto the bed. He placed the plate on Harry’s chest. “Your stomach was growling while you slept.”

“Was it?” Harry asked, his voice gruff.

“It was,” Louis said, getting under the covers. 

He moved closer to Harry, their feet sticking out the bottom of the duvet. Louis bent over the side of the bed, feeling around the floor. He lifted Harry’s laptop and brought his body upright, able to hear Harry happily munching away behind him. 

“Can you put your password in?”

“It’s Harry1234. The H is big, the rest are little,” Harry said, chewing a cube of extra sharp cheddar. “Mmm,” he picked up an apple slice, licking his thumb, “you picked the best combinations.”

“Harry1234?” Louis repeated, typing. He hit Enter. “Very secure.” The screen unlocked and illuminated his face. “Ugh. And you still have the desktop on the preset image your laptop came with?” Louis clicked to bring up Google Chrome. He whispered, “Who are you?”

Harry grinned and gently prodded Louis’ ribs, Louis smiling as he typed in a website.

“What are we watching?”

Louis laid back on the bed, his head pillowed by Harry’s shoulder. Harry’s big toe lightly ran up Louis’ arch, Louis smiling wider.

“Real Housewives,” Louis said, clicking on a video. He tilted his head back, squinting. “If you can stand it?”

Harry smiled and wrapped his arm around Louis’ shoulders.

“Whatever you want.”

Louis snuggled to Harry’s side and rested his head over his heart. Both watched the cursor dart around the laptop screen.

“In this episode, one of the ladies apparently throws her leg at the other ladies,” Louis said, clicking Play. “It’s a fake leg, by the way.”

He felt Harry’s chest bump under his back, quieters laughs exhaled in his hair. Louis turned his head and rubbed his nose against Harry’s jaw line, Harry tilting his face down and pecking his lips. Louis licked his lips, able to taste sweet fruit. Harry popped a strawberry into Louis’ mouth, smiling at Louis squawk and filling his own mouth with the last handful of grapes.

“What’s with the look?” Louis asked, licking strawberry juice off the corner of his mouth.

Harry’s jaw moved in circular motions, his lips pursed shut to smile without showing Louis how well his molars could crush food. He placed the empty plate on his bedside table. He relaxed against Louis’ warm weight, his arm snug between Louis’ back and the mattress. He thumbed the top of Louis’ shoulder.

“Are you going to make me a fruit and cheese platter every time I bottom?”

Louis giggled and nuzzled the back of his head against the pocket of Harry’s arm. 

“We’ll see.”

. . .

Louis watched the blade of his knife slice through a bright red pepper, the sound of the knife hitting his bamboo cutting board causing calm rhythmic thunks. He used his knife to push the even slices aside, grabbing a yellow pepper and slicing it in half. His hips swayed along to the music piping through his flat, a mix of rock and electronic that Harry had recommended.

His door buzzed, his chops slowing. He placed the knife on his kitchen counter and wiped his hands with a white towel, walking over to his intercom. He held down the button.

“Yeah?”

“Hey. Can I come up?”

“Of course.”

Louis smiled confusedly and checked his watch, but held down the door button. He could hear the door open and shut through the speakers. He lifted his right arm and sniffed, lifting the front of his shirt to his nose. He let go of his shirt and ran his hands through his hair, gritting his teeth and craning his neck to see his reflection in his toaster.

There was a knock at the door.

Louis walked to the door and pulled it open. He stood frozen with his hand holding the door, his mouth opening slightly.

“Hi,” Harry said, one of his arms raised to lean his wrist on the doorframe. A full bottle of Patron was clutched in his fingers, a grin spreading over his face. “Having a good day?”

Louis blinked, his eyes gravitating to Harry’s bare chest. His deep red plaid shirt was unbuttoned halfway down, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His legs looked especially long in skin tight black jeans, his hair blown backwards off his face.

“Um, yeah, good day,” Louis said, trying to estimate how long he had been openly staring. He glanced up at Harry’s face, taking a step backwards. “I thought,” Harry stepped inside, “you were going to come by later to cook dinner?” Harry shut the door and leaned his back on it. “I’m still, uh,” Louis thumbed over his shoulder, his eyes on Harry’s face, “prepping.”

Harry stepped closer, backing Louis up to his kitchen table. He placed the bottle of tequila on top, holding the bottle, his arm wrapped almost close enough to touch Louis’ skin.

“I thought maybe I could help you with some things.”

“You always do the prep and the cooking,” Louis said with a small smile. His head fell back, Harry’s eyes focused on his mouth. “I can chop vegetables for once.” Louis held Harry’s belt buckle with two fingers. He lifted himself up on the bare balls of his feet, pressing their lips together. Harry hummed with their lips still touching, his hand flattening on Louis’ lower back. “But I must say,” he nudged his chin towards the bottle, lowering himself to normal height, “I approve of your contribution.”

“Yeah, I figured you’d like that.” 

Louis asked, “Did you have a good day, too?” The glint in Harry’s eye made his spine start to heat. “Looks like you did.”

“I had a great day, actually.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Harry reached behind himself and pulled a folded sheet of white paper out of his back pocket. He opened it, Louis grinning at the familiar document and a single, bright pink Post-It.

“See, I got this in the post.” 

Harry pointed at the Post-It, which had Louis’ handwriting for the simple note:

_H,_

_I want to play with your nipples._

_-L xx_

“And while the stickie is perfect,” he lifted the Post-It and dragged his fingers down the xeroxed medical document for a TOMLINSON, LOUIS. Louis could see traffic lights turning green in his head as Harry’s finger moved over different blood tests performed, all with perfect results. “This is truly the star of my mail.” Harry grinned and lowered his arm, wrapping it around Louis’ waist. “Today, at least.”

Louis held Harry’s face in his hands and moved his lips closer. He brought his face back just before their lips brushed.

“I’m happy to hear it, though I’ve yet to receive anything in my mailbox, so...” He trailed off, shrugging his shoulders. He tilted his head, smiling and stroking his index finger over Harry’s collar bone. “Not much we can do about that, hm?”

“Ah,” Harry said, holding the low vowel. “Actually.” He rubbed his groin against Louis’ body, the right side of his smile higher than the left. “I’ve got something in my pocket for you.”

“Psh.” Louis rubbed his hand over Harry’s thigh, rolling his eyes, a knowing smile shared between them. “As if I haven’t heard that one before.”

He reached into Harry’s front pocket, pulling out a similar folded white piece of paper. While he unfolded it, Harry pulled off the cap of the tequila. He held the bottle to Louis’ lips, Louis tipping his head back and swallowing a mouthful.

“Umph, it’s even cold,” Louis said, wincing and clenching his eyes, Harry drinking a gulp straight from the bottle. Louis licked his lips and kissed Harry hard, Harry moaning deeply and sucking on his tongue. “Fuck, that’s good tequila.”

Harry rasped, “Gonna get limes,” and hurried to the fridge.

Louis hummed, reading over Harry’s report from the clinic, vaguely aware of quick cuts being made at the cutting board. Like Louis, Harry also had perfect results, Louis’ thumbs rubbing over the crisp paper. 

Harry’s heat returned to the front of his body. He plucked the results out of Louis’ hands and dropped them on the table. He popped a slice of lime into Louis’ mouth.

“Enough reading.”

His large hands cupped both of Louis’ arse cheeks, the floor falling from below Louis’ feet. Harry lifted him and placed him on the tabletop, the table skidding loudly across the floor. Louis’ legs wrapped around Harry’s body, one arm slung around his neck. 

Louis watched Harry’s throat bob, his mouth suddenly thirsty. He slid his hands under Harry’s shirt, clawing the backs of his hips. Harry’s lips smashed the lime between them, body flattening on top. Juice ran down Louis’ chin to pool in his neck, Harry’s tongue chasing the tangy drops.

Their lips clashed in a sloppy, tongue heavy kiss, both laughing loud and breathless and wild. Louis propped himself up on one elbow and took another swig of tequila. When he stopped drinking, Harry’s mouth was already there, kissing him and pushing a lime into his mouth with his tongue.

“Shit, wait--” Louis gasped and pulled his mouth away, the lime plopping on the table, Harry biting at his neck. “Liam and Zayn and Niall are--Are--Dinner--”

Harry ripped open the front of Louis’ white button down and Louis’ jaw dropped.

“Relax, I stalled the guys,” Harry said, trickling tequila in Louis’ navel. He smiled roguishly and leaned down, kissing his stomach. “And that was my shirt, anyway.”

“Do you think they’ll be mad we won’t have the fajitas ready in time?”

Harry bit his hip bone.

“Fuck the fajitas.”

Heat rushed to Louis’ face, his lower back arching off the table and Harry’s tongue swirling in his navel.

“Fuck, get naked,” Louis said quickly, pushing Harry’s shirt off his shoulders. He unbuttoned his own jeans. “Take off your pants. Everything. Let's fucking go.” 

. . .

“These are...Um…”

Liam poked his fork at the oozing bundle of vegetables, half of a tortilla folded over it. He trailed off and looked to Zayn, who was drinking a glass of ice water with his eyes shut. Niall’s eyes were bulging at him, his mouth covered by his napkin. Liam sipped his drink, something announced as a margarita but had a strange aftertaste of hot sauce and pickles. He winced and went for his water.

“I, for one, think they’re delicious,” Harry said, barely able to get the sentence out before he dissolved in airy giggles, Louis’ body frozen in a silent laugh in the seat next to him. Louis fell into him, hiccupping laughter. “Louis did a great job.” Harry grinned and patted Louis’ head. “Good little chef.”

“These taste like shit,” Louis said, Harry falling out of his chair he laughed so suddenly. “I’m fired! I’m fired from the kitchen!" Louis ruffled Harry's hair with both hands. "But I appreciate the support.”

“Right, so you’re both pissed,” Niall said, pointing between Harry and Louis. "It stinks of tequila and man-smell in here." He grinned, kicking at something under the table. “Day drinking?”

“No, we’re totally fine,” Harry’s cheerful voice said from the floor. There was a thud under the table, followed by Harry’s bubbly laughter saying, “Fine as can be.”

Louis squealed and closed in on himself, laughing and reaching at something between his legs.

“You cheeky bunny!” he said, his body pulled out of his chair and under his table. He started to snort, “Harry,” but sobered, clearing his throat. His voice could have possibly passed for just riding a buzz to say, “We’re totally fine.”

“Harry, you’re not even wearing clothes,” Niall said, prompting Liam and Zayn to smile despite the nausea swirling in their bellies. 

Louis’ voice quietly said, “He’s got a towel on, duh, Niallll,” from under the table.

Harry whispered, "Not anymooore."

Niall directed his attention at Zayn and Liam, pointedly avoiding looking down at the giggling duo underneath the table. 

“Pizza delivery?”

“Thank God,” Liam said, relaxing in his chair, Zayn’s cheeks puffing out with his fist to his mouth.

. . .

Louis studied the screen of his iPhone, walking in front of a set of empty bleachers.

“Is this pacing thing your attempt to warm up?” Zayn asked, yawning and stretching his arms over his head. He released his arms, yawning again. “Or are you just nervous if Harry’s going to come?”

“I’m not nervous,” Louis said, putting his phone in his pocket. He stretched his arm across his chest. “I just feel bad it’s such short notice.”

When Harry didn’t answer his text about the sudden football match against an office in their neighbourhood, a printing shop which was the closest to an athletic rival Simone had, he sent a message to their group chat. Liam replied privately to Louis with a friendly reminder that Harry had come over after work to nap in Louis’ bed, and was fast asleep. 

The confusion might have worked out, as Harry had his car with him and could drive them to the assigned pitch. 

“Aw, babe, you wanna give him your varsity letter?”

Louis rolled his eyes to Zayn, smiling and kicking his right leg in front of him.

“We don’t have varsity letters,” he said, voice shaking with laughter. “This is an office team. We’re lucky we have jerseys.”

“Maybe one of those jackets with a big letter on it?” Zayn adjusted his black jersey, pinching the simple white S in the middle. “Would it be a big S for Simone? Or an L for Louis?”

Louis dropped his hands to the grass, stretching out his hamstrings.

“Dunno,” he exhaled, rolling his neck. He bent his left knee, deepening the stretch of his straightened right thigh. “Great day for a game, though.”

“Ah, ha!”

Louis looked towards Zayn’s outburst.

“What?”

“Seems we’ve got some fans in the stands.”

Zayn jutted his chin across the pitch. Louis followed the line of his stare from his stretch on the ground. He slowly brought himself to standing straight, his hands on his hips. 

He watched Harry and Liam file into the Simone side of the bleachers. Some of the staff seemed to recognize Harry from their nights out together, people standing to give him hugs and handshakes. Harry would grin and hug them tightly, or say something while squeezing their shoulder. 

Louis couldn’t hear what Harry was saying, but the sight of his work friends so enthusiastically embracing Harry made his stomach feel fluttery. He put his hands on his waist and dipped to the left, stretching out his hips side to side.

Simon came between Zayn and Louis, clapping them on the back.

“You boys feeling good today?”

Both opened their mouths to answer, but Simon patted them on the back again and said, “Good, good. Let’s go team,” and walked away.

Zayn snorted, bending to pull his socks over his shin guards. 

“The team’s just lucky that football includes a goal keeper.” Zayn ran his hands through his hair, fluffing the top. “If I had to run around like you do I’d fake an injury every game.”

“Luckily, you’re great at handling balls,” Louis said, earning a light jostle from Zayn, “so it all works out. All is right in the world.”

“Ha ha,” Zayn said flatly, ruffling Louis’ hair.

Simon appeared behind Louis, whispering in his ear, “Please tell me you’re feeling well? You’re the best player we’ve got and I’m simply not in the mood to buy Mitchell’s office drinks.”

Louis smiled and nodded, adjusting his left sock. He replaced his foot on the ground.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said, rolling his neck. 

Simon squeezed both of Louis’ shoulders. 

“Excellent.” 

Simon left Zayn and Louis alone, a few more Simone players joining them in their position on the sidelines. Other players started to stretch around them. 

There was a whistle from the middle of the pitch, Simon swirling his hand in the air above his head. Louis’ eyes met Harry’s from across the field, Simon flailing around between their line of vision

Louis waited for three beats of eye contact to pass, his smile inching wider over his face. He lifted his hand to about shoulder height and waved. Harry grinned and waved back at him, the motion of his arm smaller, his hair blowing wild in the breeze. 

He saw Harry’s lips move ever so slightly to mouth the word, “Hi,” Louis’ lips ghosting the same word back at him.

Another five seconds of eye contact flew by, players starting to run out onto the pitch, Simon blowing his whistle even louder, Liam opening his bag of snacks and spilling cheesy crisps on himself.

Harry stood from the bleachers and unzipped his black hoodie, his eyes never leaving Louis’ face. He shrugged it off his broad shoulders and sat down, smoothing his tee down his stomach. Louis could see Harry’s nose wrinkle while he smiled, a tiny bit of his bottom lip nibbled between his.

Harry adjusted his royal blue jersey, the material stretched across his chest so tight his nipples were starting to poke through. His bottom lip was released from his smile, Louis able to tell he was laughing from the crinkle of his eyes.

Though no one could see from their position on the field, Louis knew that the last name TOMLINSON was emblazoned in white letters on the back of the jersey wrapped around Harry’s body.

. . . 

“What are you so smiley about, Harrabella?”

Harry's smile went so wide his dimples deepened, his hand twirling his own sweaty hair. He brought the car to a halt, a family of white ducks crossing the road in front of their chosen park for the day. 

“I love that we do activities together. Little adventures. Sports stuff.” He turned his head towards Louis and bit his bottom lip, ribbing his teeth over the flesh. He shrugged one shoulder and let out a soft laugh. “I just love that.”

Louis rubbed Harry's inner thigh, his smile easy and his cheeks reddened by the beginnings of sun burn. The car lulled and started to move again.

“You mean other than sexual activities?”

“Yes. In addition to that.” Harry smiled again, breathing in deep through his nose. The car smelled of grass and coconutty sunblock, Louis’ hand warm on his thigh and sunshine blazing through the windshield. “It’s...Nice. That both kinds of activities work, you know?”

It was not spoken aloud, but both could read their secret code. Friends were friends, and people you slept with were people you slept with, but it was rare in both of their histories to find someone who fit so perfectly into both aspects. 

“I know what you mean,” Louis said, quieter. He squeezed Harry's leg, settling in his seat with the back of his head on the window glass. “And I agree. Everything we do together is so fun. Even running, which I still think is the devil.” Harry chuckled. Louis patted Harry’s knee. “Though the outdoor sex afterwards might be influencing my decision.”

. . .

“That’s what I would recommend, but,” Louis shrugged his shoulders and clicked his trackpad once, “it’s truly up to you. It’s a very personal choice. I’m more of a stream line sort of guy. I like clean and simple, at least to start a brand. But it’s not for everyone.”

“Not for everyone? Are you nuts? This is amazing!”

Louis laughed and stretched his arms over his head, studying his screen.

“It’s true, though. My style isn’t for everyone.” He bent his right arm over his head, using his left hand to push his bicep down and lengthen the stretch. “People have different tastes, which is totally fine.” He offered Ed a smile, relaxing in the cafe booth. “I’m glad you like what I’ve mocked up. I’ll try to work on it again later. Let it simmer in my brain for a bit.”

“I loved what you did with Niall’s stuff, but this is just...” Ed trailed off, peering at Louis’ laptop screen, his eyes blown wide. “I don’t even know how you managed to think this up so fast. It’s out of control. I can’t even believe that’s my name.” He held his hand towards the screen, the light illuminating his face. “That’s my logo. I have a logo.” 

Louis chuckled, pulling up a new email. He sent Ed a link to his files, typing a note to himself in his tasks at the same time. 

Ed gripped Louis’ shoulder and said, “Out of control. Like, truly, insane.” He shook him gently. “You’re so talented.”

Louis smiled and hit Send. He turned to Ed, shifting to sit on his foot.

“You’re very kind. I’m happy to help.”

“I...I don’t even know what to say.” Ed spun his mug of tea on the table top, his eyes darting down at the milky drink swishing around the mug. “What to give you in return.”

Louis’ smile faltered, concern darkening his eyes.

“You don’t have to give me anything. I did this because I wanted to. And I encourage you to look for other options from other artists, if you’d like. You’re in no way obligated to use my ideas. This is just a springboard sort of thing.”

Ed started to smile again, his mouth spreading slowly and his face almost as red as his hair.

“Fuck, Harry mentioned you’re super professional at work and he wasn’t lying.”

Louis gently bumped their shoulders together, snuffling a laugh.

“Harry’s never even seen me at work--”

Ed said, “Maybe in his dreams.”

“--And,” Louis said, laughing over Ed’s comment, “Niall got the same awkward contract you did. It’s standard and it’s meant to keep us both safe.”

“It wasn’t an awkward contract, persay, just a surprise. Understandable, though.”

Louis had no problem helping people out for free at his discretion, but he was not an idiot. Friends helping friends could quickly lead to people being taken advantage of, or to a lack of proper credit or payment. He gave both Niall and Ed a simple contract acknowledging that Louis was offering them his guidance and ideas for a set amount of hours only, while also protecting his designs should they move forward with any publishing or marketing. 

“I promise I didn’t plan on coming here to pick your brain about graphics.”

“I know.”

“And I promise I didn’t make Harry get stuck in traffic to get you alone for a bit.”

“I know that, too,” Louis said, smiling and minimizing a few windows. “And besides,” he shut his laptop, “I’m a fan of your music, so it all works out.”

“No way,” Ed said, laughing and shaking his head. “Not possible. Not a fair trade.”

“It’s true.” Louis slid his laptop into his work bag. “Your songs that Harry put on my phone are a constant on all my playlists, lately.”

“You’re crazy,” Ed said on a louder laugh. “Liking a few of my songs does not equal freelance work for free. You’re an artist, too, man, and it feels strange to just take this from you. As an artist.”

“But I’m offering. Believe me, I get it.” Louis lifted his mug of tea to his lips. “But it’s fine.” He sipped quickly. He licked his lips. “Truly.”

“But Niall and I--”

Ed’s mouth stuck open, Louis blinking at him.

“What?” Louis chuckled, sipping again. “You and Niall what?”

“Niall and I might have prank called your job to find out your rates.”

Louis' jaw nearly unhinged he laughed so suddenly, his hand flying to his stomach and his head dropped back.

“Harry begged us not to,” Ed said, laughing though his words. “But we had to. We had to try. The receptionist has a gorgeous voice, by the way. Is she single?”

“Try what? Why on earth didn't you just ask me?”

Ed's shoulders shrugged up to his ears, a sheepish smile on his face.

“I dunno, it's awkward when your mate makes more per hour to freelance than you do, erm,” Ed grit his teeth and widened his eyes, “in a month slinging lattes.”

“Psh, don’t even think about that,” Louis scoffed, cutting the air with his flat palm. “Numbers, that’s all they are. Not at all a mark of usefulness.” 

Ed smiled, the motion more natural and less shy. There was a lull in conversation, Ed eying Louis as he sipped the last of his tea. Silently, he stood from the booth they shared and walked over to the counter, leaning over with his bum in the air. 

He returned to their table, pouring hot water into Louis’ mug.

“Cheers,” Louis said, holding the warm mug with both hands. 

“So, you’re kind of the shit,” Ed said, pouring water into his own cup. He smirked at Louis’ single quirked brow and amused gaze. Ed set the kettle on the table and slid into the opposite side of the booth. He lifted his mug, dunking his tea bag. “I can see why Harry likes you so much.”

Louis smiled, studying the steam rising off of his tea, thumbs rubbing the heated ceramic of his mug.

“Aw, are you going to get all bashful?” Ed reached across and pinched his cheek, Louis laughing and pawing his hand off. “Harry does the same thing when he talks about you, rare occasion that it may be. His face looks like a bowl of melting strawberry gelato, all pink and gooey.”

“Melting strawberry gelato,” Louis said, nodding seriously, Ed grinning at him while sipping his tea. “I like it. No wonder you’re so good with lyrics.”

“Hey, so sorry I’m late,” Harry’s voice broke through, his body appearing beside the booth. He shrugged his jacket off, Louis and Ed watching his frantic motions in mirrored positions, both holding their mugs in front of their faces with their elbows on the table. “Traffic was crazy and it took forever for me to get out of the bakery.”

“No worries,” Louis said, placing his mug on the table. “We entertained ourselves.”

“Yeah?” Harry hung his coat on the side of the booth. He stood at the end of Louis’ side with his hands on his hips. “What’d I miss?”

. . .

“Louis!”

Louis startled, his hand flying to his chest and his mouth wide to let out a loud gasp. He spun towards the voice.

“Simon,” he rasped, his voice not fully recovered. He swallowed and cleared his his throat, hand tightening around the fresh cup of tea clenched in his grip. “Simon,” he said, more in his normal octave. “Hi. Morning.”

Simon stretched his arms over his head, his legs bent to fold in a lotus position. Doing early morning yoga made sense, but why would someone do yoga alone on top of their desk at work?

“What are you doing here so early?” Simon asked, arching his body to the side.

“Erm, I crashed at a friend's place last night and he gets up super early for work, so I ended up just getting up the same time as him so we could leave his building together. Easier that way.” He looped his thumb in his pocket. “I'll stay until five like normal, but I didn't want to go back to my place and sit around until coming here.”

“You should leave after eight hours,” Simon said, arching to the other side. “You can come in and start whenever you want, as long as your work is done on time, which it always is, and there's nothing scheduled for the end of the day. I don't give a shit what hours you work.”

“Oh,” Louis said, his voice almost a cluck. “I…” His features relaxed, his wide eyes slowly making a circle. “Didn't know that was an option. Good to know.”

Simon smiled with his eyes shut and reached his hands up to the sky, letting out a slow stream out hissed air. After three seconds of watching his boss hiss, Louis took one step backwards.

“What on earth does your friend do that's so bloody early?”

“He works in a bakery,” Louis said, stepping forward again. “He's a pastry chef.”

“Really?” Simon said, his eyes opening to blink at Louis. “What bakery?”

“Helena's. It's not too far from here, actually. I walked from there.”

“Helena's, Helena’s, Helena’s,” Simon repeated, blinking faster, his gaze growing more intense.

Suddenly, he looked at Louis as if he held the key to the universe, his hands drawing quick circles in the air. Louis raised his eyebrows, rolling backwards on the balls of his feet. Was that a motion to signal he was done speaking with him? He went to move out of the office, but Simon spoke again.

“Shit. Yes, yes,” Simon said, nodding, smiling wide. “Can you make a run there? I’d really appreciate it.”

“Oh, um, sure.” Louis looked at his watch, his brows twitching together. “Now? Why, do you want breakfast? They have amazing croissants, by the way.”

“There's this pastry thing they make there. It starts with an L. Shit.” Simon uncurled his legs and stood up, beginning to jog in place. Louis just looked around the empty office and tucked his thumb tighter in his pocket. “Simone has been obsessing about it. It's a chocolate thing that they made into pastries because it was such a hit.” Simon blew air through his nose. “I don't remember. They always sell out and I haven’t managed to get any for her since Valentine’s.”

“Well, I can swing by and ask Harry. He's the pastry chef, so he's got to know if there's a new thing they're offering.”

Simon grinned at him, his face glowing with dewy sweat.

“Would you? Charge it to the company. Get a bunch of the Ls for the office.” He bent his leg up to his head. “Why not, right?”

Louis went on his way, taking the long way to Helena’s. The weather was so mild, the streets still quiet, fog just starting to lift. He wondered if Harry would be able to take a break and walk with him back to the office. Harry loved pleasant weather. 

By his calculation, he would make it to Helena’s and back to Simone before Zayn even woke up for the day. Hopefully, Simon’s early morning yoga routine would also be done by the time he got back to work.

When he arrived at the bakery, Louis tried to push the door to Helena's open, but was met with resistance. He peeked inside the windows and saw lines of people in front of the counter, some grasping boxes of baked goods, some standing on tiptoe to look at what was left on the shelves.

A woman exited the bakery, giving Louis an in. He stepped inside and shut the door behind himself. He saw Harry's hair above the mob of people, his curls already springy around his temples, a blue head scarf holding his hair off his forehead. 

Like some sort of laser beam, Louis felt heat on his face. He stood up on the balls of his feet and was hit with Harry's wide grin, Harry waving his right hand excitedly. Louis smiled and tilted his chin at him, widening his eyes and looking around the crowded room. Harry smiled, a bit more tired, and rubbed the back of his hand over his forehead. 

A woman dumped the contents of her pocketbook on the floor in front of the register, causing a minor uproar amongst the patrons. Louis broke their stare to get on line, smiling at the black and white tiled floor. He glanced back at the counter and saw Harry divert his eyes, Harry smiling to himself while tying up a box with red and white striped string.

Louis moved up one person in line and ended up next to the seating area. He noticed a collection of framed photos and articles about the bakery hung on the mint green wall. Some reviews looked older, the articles well maintained but the paper itself turning the colour of fresh tea.

Harry's smiling face stood out from the newest looking review. Louis read the blurb about Helena's Valentine's Day offerings, his smile growing as he read Harry's little comments about chocolate making and baking loads of pink desserts. At the end of the article, the interviewer mentioned that Helena's would be expanding on Harry's wildly popular Valentine's Day creations and begin to offer them year-round, especially his most popular chocolate, Le Louis.

Louis reread the final line three times, his body unmoving. On his fourth read, his mouth opened slightly, his lips pursed forward.

“Erm, sir, the line,” a shy woman behind him muttered, coughing into her fist.

Louis blinked rapidly, his eyes lingering on the name Le Louis while he stepped forward.

“Sorry, uh…” He pointed to the article. “Have you had that?” he asked the woman, his brain filling with fog and rainbows of frosting. “Le Louis?”

“Oh, um, yes,” she said quickly, nodding, her brown eyes wide behind her round violet glasses. “Of course. That's why we're all here, isn't it?”

Louis' brain connected Simon's request for L's with the name Le Louis. But why would Simon request a bunch of desserts for the office at this hour? Louis wasn't a dessert person, but surely people didn't eat just desserts for breakfast on the regular?

“Is it named after a king or, uh,” Louis said aloud to himself, his brows twitching inward. He saw Helena come out from the back, arms full of empty boxes and her laugh tinkling over the noisy bakery. Her voice saying the name of Harry’s chocolate lined up in Louis’ head. “Weird. I, uh,” he looked back to the woman and shrugged his shoulders, smiling, “no, I've never had one. Or any. Erm, what are they?”

“Well, they began as a chocolate they offered for Valentine's weekend,” she said, Louis listening intently as both stepped forward in the line. “The chef said it was inspired by a kiss, but wouldn’t say who in any interviews. Then, it became so popular that the chef started to create a collection around the flavour profile. Croissants, cakes, things like that. I’m a fan of the cake pops, myself.”

“Flavour profile?” Louis asked, stepping forward. “A kiss? This is all,” he laughed mid-sentence, “for a flavour profile?”

A man in front of him turned and said, with just as much hushed enthusiasm, “The spiciest, creamiest dark chocolate you'll ever eat.” His pale blue eyes widened. “Sexy, salty caramel. And this buttery crumble of shortbread. Mmm.” He shivered, his wavy blond head of hair matching his motion. “It's insane. And so bloody romantic, when you think about it.”

“It really is,” the woman said, both customers nodding at Louis.

Louis opened his mouth to ask how a chocolate could be romantic, but they had reached the counter, the man in front of him turning away from Louis to speak with Harry. 

“Hi, handsome,” he said, prompting Harry to laugh. Harry’s amused eyes darted over the man’s shoulder at Louis, who was smirking, but felt a weird sort of pang in his chest, his hand flat over his stomach. “A dozen of the originals, please.”

“A dozen?” Harry said, prepping a small box. “Rough night?”

“Greg’s mother was in town and stayed with us.” He sighed. “For over a week.” The man pulled a few bills out of his wallet. “We had a little spat after she left yesterday, but,” he handed the money over, smiling, “that’s where your chocolates come in.”

“I hope they help,” Harry said, taking the money from him. He handed over the box. “Tell Greg I said hello.”

“Will do,” the man said, stepping aside. He pulled his mobile out, mumbling to himself, “Ah, here he is now.”

Harry directed his attention to Louis, who stepped up to the counter, his hands flat on top.

“Hello there,” Harry said happily, leaning closer. His eyes went to Louis’ mouth, but snapped back up, his back straightening. “This is a nice surprise. What are you doing here?”

“My boss wanted breakfast for his wife and said for me to get enough for the office.”

“Oh, cool.” Harry picked up a sheet of wax paper, hands gravitating towards the croissant case. “What did he want?”

Louis walked his fingers along the edge of the counter until he reached a case full of small dark chocolates. 

He dropped his gaze, but his voice remained buoyant as he said, “Well, he mentioned that I should buy a bunch of Ls, but couldn’t remember the full name of them.” Harry’s smile softened, his mouth opening to let out an involuntary puff of air. Louis could see Harry’s brain slow to a halt through his flickering eyes. “His wife apparently loves them and raves about them.” Louis tapped the side of the case, bringing their gaze together. “These them?” The right side of his mouth quirked up. “The Le Louis?”

“I was going to tell you,” Harry exhaled, the tops of his cheeks as pink as the frosting on his nearby butterfly cupcakes. “Sorry, I--I didn’t think…” He licked his lips, his fingers digging into the counter top. “I hope you’re not mad. I made it after you came with the, um, soup. It was very...Inspirational. To me.”

“I’m not mad at all,” Louis said, wrapping his hand over Harry’s wrist. He thumbed his pulse. “I’m not, I’m just…” He laughed and widened his eyes, shrugging his shoulders. “I dunno. I’m shocked, but never mad.”

Harry smiled sheepishly.

“I didn’t know it would become such a hit.”

“Did you really make it because…” 

Louis’ tongue wouldn’t finish his sentence, his mouth twitching wider, but no words coming out.

“Yeah,” Harry breathed out, turning his hand over. His fingers dragged up Louis’ open palm. “It’s because of you.” His voice broke, his throat bobbing. “All of it.” The swell of people behind Louis started to get antsy, the noise level rocketing, Harry’s voice nearly drowned out to say, “Though it pales in comparison.”

“Oi,” Louis laughed, his eyes crinkled, his palm flat on his chest. “I know my mouth has other, stronger gifts that you enjoy, but I didn't think I'm that bad of a kisser that a chocolate could beat me.”

“Um, I...I wasn't talking about you,” Harry said, suddenly shy. He let his head tilt to the side and smiled, biting on his bottom lip until his smile grew too wide and his lip slipped from his teeth. “I meant that the chocolate pales in comparison. To kissing you. I made it when I tried to imagine what it’d be like. Kissing you. But the chocolate pales in comparison.”

Louis' jaw lost a touch of its firmness, his head nodding without his control.

“Oh,” he said on an exhale, looking from Harry to the mob of people around him, a mob of people all dying to get a famous chocolate that he inspired. “I...Okay.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, just as breathy. He swallowed. “Is that...Is that weird?”

“Louis, love, hello!” Helena's voice sang, a tray of chocolate covered donuts drizzled in caramel and bits of shortbread leading her body to the register. “Would you like a latte? Cappuccino?”

“Oh, no, thank you. That's lovely of you to offer,” he said, smiling as she loudly kissed both of his cheeks, her hands gripping his face. She smelled of powdered sugar and roses and apparently didn't seem to care that the line was now snaking out the door, patrons grumbling behind him. “I was just picking up some snacks for the off--”

“Wait,” the man who had been in front of him said, pointing two fingers at Louis. “Did she call you Louis?”

The woman behind him asked, “Are you the Le Louis?”

The bakery went silent, Harry and Louis frozen in place.

“Alright, next in line,” Helena said, breaking the silence, gesturing people forward. “Busy day, busy day, people. Who’d like a scone?”

Nearby customers started to close in, but they weren’t looking at Helena. The man pointed his iPhone at Louis, eyes darting between them.

“Oh, my, God, you are totally Le Louis,” he said, his voice rising in volume and pitch. “Of course you are! You’re the inspiration! Oh, my, God,” he fumbled to touch his phone’s screen, “I need to call Greg back.” He held the phone to his ear. “And christ on a cross,” his eyes scanned Louis from the head to toe, “you even look like you’d taste of salted caramel.” 

Louis’ brows shot up, Harry gasping so wide he put his hand on his cheek. 

“You give a blog an interview months ago and suddenly this happens,” Harry said, voice quiet enough for only Louis to hear. “I’m sorry if this is crazy for you.”

Louis noticed the woman behind him taking a Snapchat selfie, Louis’ face in the frame. He discreetly stepped aside, other customers moving towards the counter with their phones in hand.

“Sorry?” Louis said, wincing through his smile. “I didn’t mean to cause an uproar. Who knew bakeries even had uproars? These food bloggers must be wildly popular.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Harry said, quickly boxing up as many Le Louis based items as he could. He threw a few regular danishes and muffins in there for variety. “I...I should be thanking you.” He handed over the box, smiling down at the register. “Le Louis is our best seller, so...Yeah.” Louis took the box with both hands, Harry thumbing over Louis’ knuckles. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

They shared another quick smile, Harry huffing a laugh out of his nose and Louis’ chest warmer than the wall of ovens between the double doors.

Louis said, “I should let you get back to work,” at the same time as Harry saying, “I’m really glad you came by.” Both laughed and looked away, Harry rubbing the back of his hand over his head scarf.

“Alright, um,” Louis stepped back from the counter, “I, um. Oh,” he stepped closer, Harry’s eyes never leaving his face, “I can leave work early today.”

Harry smiled wide.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, do you…” Louis swallowed and tried to move closer to keep his voice down, people crowded around him. “Do you wanna maybe play tennis after work? I can cook tonight.”

“Oh, my sweet Jesus,” the man said, still standing near the counter with his phone to his ear. “Greg, they play tennis together. We should start doing that.”

Harry looked to his customer, baffled. He shook his head, widening his eyes at Louis.

“Yeah, that sounds perfect.” He smiled, still a touch flustered. “I’ll pick you up whenever you’re ready. Just text me.”

“Cool.”

Helena bumped her hip against Harry, murmuring something about bisous in his ear with her smiling eyes on Louis’ face.

“No, no,” Harry chuckled, shaking his head. He whispered, “Très privé [Very private]."

“You’ve got something on your face,” Louis said, holding his hand out. “C’mere, I’ll get it.”

“Oh,” Harry said, leaning forward. “Is it flour?” Louis’ fingers brushed his right cheekbone. “I made so much bread this morning.” Louis leaned forward on tip toe, Harry moving closer to help. “I think I’ve got flour coming out of my--”

Louis’ hand flattened on his cheek, his other hand gripping the strap of Harry’s white apron. The sudden chaste press of their lips sent bolts of heat up his spine. Harry faintly heard Helena cackling in a foggy corner of his mind, the sound of people whooping joining her laugh. 

It was as if the sound of the crowded room was sucked out with nothing but a high frequency left in its place. All he could hear was Louis’ quickening breath sucked in and exhaled out through his nose. Louis’ lips were sweet like tea with too much sugar, but then again, how could he criticize the use of too much sugar?

Louis pressed just a touch harder, Harry’s lips opening to breathe in, and then the kiss was over, the sound of the room blasting back into Harry’s ears. Harry swallowed and looked for Louis’ eyes, but could only see his teeth shining in a wide smile, his thumbs rubbing Harry’s cheekbones.

“I’ll see you later,” Louis whispered, brushing their lips together for barely a breath. He nudged his nose against Harry’s. “Have a great day.”

“I thought you,” Harry panted out a breath, pupils dilated and lips swollen candy pink, “hated PDA?”

“ _Je fais_ , uh,” Louis’ eyes rolled backwards, his nose wrinkling while he smiled, “exception?”

Harry barked out a quiet laugh, his face still in Louis’ hands.

“You speak French, now?”

“Well, no, not quite,” Louis said slowly, letting his hands slide down to Harry’s chest. He tapped his thumbs between his pecs. “But I did download Duolingo.”

Upon returning to the office, Louis found the early morning arrivals to be in a conference room, including a surprising Zayn. He checked his watch and winced, hurrying into the room with everyone’s breakfast. His morning had been borderline fairytale, but he also took much longer than anticipated to get back to work.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

He opened the large box in the centre of the table, revealing a multitude of pastries, chocolates, and scones. His fingers got caught in the bakery string, Zayn snickering beside him.

“You look like a stressed cat,” Zayn said, his voice rough from sleep.

“Louis!”

For the second time that morning, Simon startled him, Louis spinning around and huffing out a quick breath. He dropped the string on the table.

“Hi, yes, hi,” he said, laughing the third word. “Sorry, there was a huge crowd at the bakery.”

“I’m sure there was. I didn’t realize today was the debut of this little lovely.”

Simon used a napkin to pick up a scone, almost pure white in appearance but drizzled with dark chocolate and caramel.

“But somehow,” Simon continued, moving closer, “you managed to get us,” he shrugged one shoulder forward, eying the box, “at least a dozen of them.” Simon took a bite and sank into a squat, crumbs lingering on his bottom lip. “How much did this all cost?” He lifted himself, then squatted again, one of his assistants spotting him from behind. “Just out of curiosity. Surely, they were in high demand.”

“Oh, uh--” Louis’ brain raced backwards through time, but no numbers flashed in his mind. His face became contorted, his eyes nearly crossed. Did Harry give him everything for free? Everything after their goodbye kiss, including his exit from the bakery, was foggy. “I...I don’t remember paying.”

Simon’s crumb covered lips quirked upwards. 

“Hm,” he hummed, licking the corner of his mouth. “Interesting.” He let his eyes linger on Louis’ face for one more beat before he smiled and looked away. “Everyone,” he said louder, spinning in a circle. “Please help yourselves to breakfast. While you’re all here, I’ve printed out an update for a few clients.” He jutted his chin towards the pile of papers. “Feel free to grab one once you’re done eating.”

The early morning employees lunged towards the box of baked goods, Simon walking out of the room with two assistants behind him.

Louis picked up one of the print outs, scanning the list of clients. None of it was new information to him, and it was a shock that Simon took the time to print something. He was usually one to send out any sort of information over an iPad while flying back from Aruba or Bali or some other exotic locale.

He went to put the flyer back on the table, then noticed there was something on the back. He flipped it over and saw a familiar news article with a familiar smiling face. 

Louis’ mouth fell open. He blinked at the article about Le Louis, about his chocolate, and felt his face go red hot. None of the other employees seemed to notice the article on the back of their notes; anyone who scanned the article didn’t necessarily know that he was the Louis in Le Louis. The baked goods were so distracting that it likely would go unnoticed. 

He glanced up and caught eyes with Simon through the glass conference room wall. Simon waved his pinkie finger at him, stretched in an unhealthy looking yoga pose with one leg linked over his head.

“I do believe you’re blushing, Le Louis,” Simone whispered from next to him, cradling a scone in her delicate hand. “These are incredible. Thank you for picking them up.”

Louis said nothing, his mouth shut tight. A smile worked its way onto his face, Simone laughing softly. 

“Do you have any extras of these?” he asked, lifting the sheet in his hand, shaking his head and still staring at Simon. “I’ll need some paper to submit my letter of immediate resignation.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, darling. We were charmed.” She nudged her hip into him, adding, “Cute boyfriend, too.”

. . . 

Harry flattened on his back, his eyes unfocused and staring up at his bedroom ceiling, his mouth gasping for breath.

“That was...Amazing,” he panted out, his eyes giving in and falling shut. He tried to stretch his limbs, but his arms felt like lead, his hands too heavy to lift from his pillow. He sucked in another loud breath, his eyes rolling under his lids. “You’re amazing. How did you…” Spurts of panting interrupted his thoughts. “With your hips and...The talking and...” He wiggled his fingers to be sure they were still there. “Amazing.”

Louis fell on top of Harry, his sweaty cheek glued to the dip of his shoulder. He slung one arm over Harry’s barrelling chest, the duvet barely covering his bum. He smiled deliriously, nuzzling closer to Harry’s throbbing pulse.

“I thought you’d like that.”

Louis kissed over his chest, running his fingers up the damp underside of Harry's extended, limp arm. Harry just whimpered, the sound broken and higher than it had just been mere minutes earlier. He turned his head on the pillow and tilted his face down, Louis' salty lips pressing firmly to his own. Harry breathed through his nose with their lips still joined, Louis' fingers curling on the sweat soaked skin of Harry's neck. Louis pulled back, his smile growing wide under Harry's warm, dazed, smiley gaze.

“I’ll have to name more chocolates after you.”

Louis giggled lightly, kissing Harry’s nipple. The skin was still tender to the touch, bite marks fresh around the sensitive circle. Louis kissed it again, softer, kissing up to Harry’s jaw line.

“You should definitely send Claire a box of pastries for stealing Niall away tonight.” He laced his fingers in the front of Harry’s hair, pushing it up. He kissed his closed right eyelid, kissing his left eyelid before kissing his forehead. He settled on his stomach, his head pillowed by Harry’s bicep, the scent of him especially strong on that part of his body. “Dunno if we’ll be able to walk tomorrow,” Harry grinned at that comment, “but I think we made good use of the empty flat.”

“We broke our record,” Harry said, lifting his hand. 

Louis slapped their palms together, both laughing exhaustedly. 

Some time later, they were cleaned up, hydrated, and tucked into bed. The covers were pulled up to their shoulders, their noses nearly touching and their heads sharing the same pillow. Their eyes were starting to sag sleepily, but they couldn’t bring themselves to sleep yet, both simply staring at the other. Moonlight from Harry’s window was the only shimmering movement in the room.

Louis broke the silence and slid his arm over Harry’s ribs, the motion causing a smooth hissing sound of skin against skin. He kissed his mouth softly, able to do so without moving his head off the pillow.

“You’re kind of a romantic, aren’t you?” Louis whispered, thumbing the dip of his spine.

Harry nodded, long lashes swooping for a slow blink.

“Yeah.”

Louis stroked over the side of Harry’s head, letting the tips of his fingers tangle in his freshly washed hair.

“Always have been?”

“I think so."

“How come?”

Harry rubbed his cheek against his pillow.

“My...My grandparents, I think.”

Louis hummed, bumping their knees under the blanket.

“What do you mean?”

Harry smiled with whatever energy he had left in his body, shifting until he could feel Louis’ quiet breaths against his lips.

“My grandpa tells everyone he meets, whether they’re his grandkids or a random worker in the grocery store or someone lost on the street or,” he smiled wider, “some poor telemarketer who called their house, about my nan.” Louis’ eyes crinkled, the laugh lines around them showing. “Tells them how she’s the most beautiful woman on earth; how good of a person she is; how lucky he is that she picked him out of everyone in the world to be her husband. And my nan just," Harry grinned, snuffling out of his nose, "loves to make him happy. Make him laugh. Lives for it."

“That’s so sweet,” Louis murmured, stroking behind Harry’s ear. "That they're still so hot for each other. It’s sort of rare these days."

“Yeah, they’re the best. When my parents had their issues, I always had my grandparents to look up to. They just seem so happy together all the time, you know? Even when they bicker about silly things, which rarely even happens, you can tell one of them is participating just to rile the other up. Then they’re laughing three seconds later and helping each other in the kitchen.”

“Yep. That sounds like it would do it.” Louis smiled, unable to avoid Harry’s sunny rays of excitement as he spoke. “Make you a romantic for life.”

“Yeah,” Harry laughed quietly, shrugging one shoulder. “My mum and stepdad are like my grandparents, so I can’t give them all the credit, but I guess I just have strong memories of that from when I was younger.”

“I think that’s great.” Louis tucked his arm under his pillow, his other hand curled loosely on Harry’s neck. “I sometimes wonder if each generation is getting away from that, you know? Like with each generation, there will be less of a desire to have that with someone. I suppose there will always be exceptions.”

Harry sucked his own bottom lip into his mouth, his sleepy eyes blinking slowly. 

“Is that…weird for you? That I’m...Romantic-ish?”

Louis kissed him, thumbing his cheekbone as he pressed their lips together again.

“You don’t ever have to apologize to me for being thoughtful or sweet. Or for being yourself,” Louis said, his voice quiet but the core of his tone strong. “Like in the bakery, when we were talking about the chocolate thing, your first response was to apologize.” He shook his head gently. “You didn’t have to. You did something so...Creative and...Romantic,” he whispered, stroking Harry’s hair off his forehead. “You don’t have to apologize for those sort of things, polite as you are.”

“I thought you’d maybe be weirded out.”

Louis smiled with his mouth shut, his fingers tracing circles beneath Harry’s earlobe.

“Nah. Not weirded out. Not by you. Caught off guard? Yeah. But that’s just because I’ve,” he shrugged his top shoulder forward, “never really had anyone do anything like that before. Not even close. And whenever a sort of, um, gesture was made, it usually had different intentions. They wanted something in return.”

“I’ve,” Harry held out the word, the shape of his lips moving more towards a smile, “never named a chocolate after someone before. Never sent flowers to the office.”

Louis’s eyes twinkled as he stroked the back of Harry’s hair, each item on his list making the heat between them surge.

“I’m honoured. I…” Louis chuckled and wrinkling his nose, shaking his head. “Ugh, my list isn’t as sweet as yours.”

“Tell me, tell me,” Harry quietly chanted, prodding Louis’ stomach. 

“I’ve never done bareback with anyone but you,” Louis said, his fingers curling tighter in Harry’s hair. Harry’s wide eyes blinked, moonlight bouncing off his cheekbone. “Never trusted anyone like that.” His fine lips pursed, teeth nipping his bottom lip. Softer, he added, “Never wanted someone like that. And I…” He swallowed, dragging his hand down the side of Harry’s neck. “I never talked about someone to strangers in a grocery store before you, but,” he smiled with his lips closed, raising his eyebrows, “here we are.”

“I think your list is just as sweet as my list,” Harry whispered, nuzzling his nose to Louis’ jawline. “The fact that we talk about feelings, which sounds silly, but it’s…” He shook his head. “Wait. What?” He lifted his face, leaning on his forearm. He narrowed his eyes, his smile confused. “What do you say about me to people in grocery stores?”

Louis groaned and rolled away from him, burying his face in his pillow. 

“Wait, are you serious? Or are you just saying that because I said it?” Harry tried to pull him onto his back, succeeding after two tugs. Louis rolled over, but held a pillow over his face. Harry chuckled, rubbing Louis’ stomach. “What could you possibly have said about me that’s got you so embarrassed? Oh.” Harry’s voice dropped in volume. “Was it that I spend so much money on cheese-based snacks?”

Louis sighed, smiling into the fluffy material. He propped the pillow behind his head, leaving his hands above his head and his arms bent. He looked to Harry’s face, smiling and brushing his toes against Harry’s. Harry leaned lower and nudged their noses, sucking gently on Louis’ top lip.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Harry said. He gave him an even easier kiss, his hand flat on the side of Louis’ neck. He wrapped his arms around Louis’ upper back, his weight a calming pressure on top of Louis’ body. Harry bent his right leg, tucking his foot behind Louis’ knee. “I’ll wait for whatever you wanted to say, if you ever want to say it.”

“It...Wasn’t about cheese."

“That’s a start,” Harry said, his gaze shimmering.

“It was…” Louis giggled to himself, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I even said it.”

“God, you’re teasing me,” Harry said on a groan, smiling wide. “Really dragging out this grocery revelation.”

“It’s not so much a revelation. More like...A term thing.” Louis eyes lit playfully. “Nothing like being told you’re the name of a famous chocolate.” 

Harry’s smile faded for a split second, bashfulness colouring his face. Louis pressed a kiss to his mouth and then his smile was back, stronger than ever, his fingers stroking the front of Louis’ hair.

“What’s a term thing?” Harry asked.

“What do you call me when you talk about me to people?”

Harry blinked, his eyebrows arching slowly upward.

“What do you mean?”

“Am I your friend?” Louis asked quietly, his eyes locked with Harry’s. His stare was sleepy, gentle, but still laser-like and sharp. “Am I your mate? Your pal named Louis? Or just Louis?”

“I…”

“People refer to you as my boyfriend sometimes,” Louis pressed on. Harry continued stroking his hair, even with no sound coming out of his throat, the air thick between them. “Work people, you know? Ever since your cameo at the football field, you’re like a local celebrity. People ask me about my boyfriend. Ask how I met my boyfriend. Say how cute my boyfriend is.” A small smile whispered over Louis’ lips. “Things like that.”

Harry’s head started to nod, his mouth blurting out, “Y-Yeah,” while he nodded faster. “Yeah, I...I get that.” He swallowed roughly, smiling and touching his forehead to Louis’. “I don’t know how far you are in Duolingo--”

“Not very.”

“--But Helena hasn’t referred to you as just my friend in a while. Instead of saying ton ami, which is just translated to your friend, she says...Petit ami. Or petit copain. Both of which can be translated to,” Harry breathed in, exhaling, “boyfriend.” His mouth twitched not to smile, though his eyes were crinkling more by the second. “I…” He swallowed again, easier, Louis touching his Adam’s apple with one light fingertip. “I stopped correcting her. A long time ago.”

Louis’ body pushed out a high pitched, sighed, “Aw,” without his control, his eyes going soft and his hand squeezing Harry’s shoulder. “That’s…” He pulled Harry’s face down, his mouth also moving without thought to press kisses over Harry’s cheeks. “That’s so sweet.”

“You told me I could be sweet to you, so,” Harry smiled against Louis’ lips, “I’m just following directions.”

“ _Tu es doux_ ,” Louis said, laughter bubbling between them. He rolled Harry onto his back, holding his face and kissing his lips over and over. “ _Et beau_ ,” he loudly kissed Harry’s chin, “et doux,” he kissed his lips softly, “et beau. Très beau.”

“ _Ooh, très bon_ ,” Harry said on a laugh, his eyes wide and bright. He rolled Louis over, the blankets a twisted bundle, binding their lower bodies together. “You’re doing really well.”

“I memorized a few key phrases.” He tilted his head with each word. " _Beau. Boulanger. La baise._ He smiled and pecked Harry’s mouth. “Mon lapin.”

Harry amusedly repeated, “Mon lapin? You looked up how to call me your bunny but not your boyfriend?”

“I call you sleepy bunny sometimes!”

“True, true.”

Louis relaxed on his back, letting out a big breath. He linked his index fingers together, resting his joined hands on top of his forehead. He felt the bed shift next to him. Harry turned on his side, leaving breathing room between their bodies, his fingers stroking around Louis’ navel.

“I was in the grocery store a couple of weeks ago and they had this,” Louis lifted his hands, drawing a box in the air in front of their faces, “display at the end of the aisle. Toys and colouring books. And there was a basket of kid’s word search puzzle books.” 

He dropped his arms, his hand landing on Harry’s forearm, which was wrapped over his body. He rubbed over his downy hair, drawing circles on the pale underside. Harry’s lips opened on Louis’ shoulder, kissing his outer bicep once. 

“So,” Louis cleared his throat, “I looked through it to see about getting one for you.” Harry’s nose exhaled shaky breaths on Louis’ skin. “And a lady next to me,” he squinted at the ceiling, “who looked sort of like an older Jane Fonda, asked if I saw one for ponies.” Louis tilted his head on his pillow, smiling at Harry’s rapt gaze. “Her granddaughters love ponies.” He looked back to the ceiling. “And I said, yeah,” he held one hand out in front of him, “I found two pony books. Have at it.”

“And then,” Louis said, slowing his voice, Harry resting his chin over his heart, his fringe falling softly over his forehead, “she said something about an abundance of food books. Like, a kids puzzle book all about foods.”

“Hmm,” Harry hummed, the tone going upwards, lifting his face. He rubbed Louis’ stomach, eyes urging him onward. “And?”

Louis started to laugh his words, “And so I put my basket on the ground, abandoning my corn flakes and coconut milk, and I...” 

He shook his head, getting out the last of his giggles, Harry involuntarily starting to chuckle at his delirium. Louis calmed his laughing, his voice settling down and his body relaxing, Harry’s lips still touching the warm skin of his shoulder. 

“I took one of the food books and I said...” He let his head fall towards Harry, his lashes lulling slow and heavy, his face calm. Their noses lined up. Louis smiled, just an easy upwards curve of his lips, his eyes crinkling. “I said, ‘Oh, my boyfriend’s a chef. He’d love that.’”

The white curtains over Harry’s open window billowed into the bedroom, more moonlight spilling over their faces. A car alarm blared from what seemed like millions of miles away, the dull horn barely making it into the bedroom.

Louis shivered under Harry’s serious stare, goosebumps breaking out over every inch of exposed skin.

“Just like that,” Louis said, his voice thin, his breathing unsupported. He shrugged his shoulder and it pressed up to Harry’s lips, Harry’s hand unmoving on Louis’ stomach. “Just rolled off my tongue and I didn’t even realize I said it until I was already on the tube.”

Harry’s brows furrowed, his thumb tracing a bump of Louis’ ribs.

“Did you buy me the puzzle book?”

Louis’ eyes lit from the inside, but it wasn’t from pleasure, his lips twitching tightly.

“That’s what you take from that story?” He sat up in bed, pushing the duvet off his chest. “If I bought you a puzzle book for children?”

“Oh, no, no! Sorry, sorry,” Harry said, holding onto Louis with both arms. He was dragged towards the end of the bed, Louis attempting to get his legs out of their duvet tangle. “Lou,” Harry said, laughing into Louis’ underarm. Louis lifted his arm and squirmed away, Harry still holding him around the waist. “Please, don’t be upset. Please, please.” Louis fell onto his back, Harry smoothing his hand through his hair. “I was so into the story and I didn’t realize there wasn’t more to come. Didn’t know there was anything wrong with what you said.”

“It’s not...Not necessarily wrong, but just…” Louis sat up, the duvet pooled in his lap. He played with the hem, folding the white material around his index finger. “Don’t people have discussions about that step? Like,” he looked confusedly to Harry, “before taking it? Before calling someone your boyfriend?”

“I think we’re discussing it right now.”

“It’s..." Louis squinted his right eye shut." A little awkward.”

“Yeah,” Harry barked on a laugh, nodding. “A little. But, it's alright. We're talking it out.”

Louis smiled down at the duvet, releasing the knot in his hand. He took a deep breath, Harry breathing in in unison. Harry sat up in bed, both men sitting cross-legged and facing each other, their knees touching with a duvet barrier. 

Harry touched Louis’ thigh through the blankets. He rubbed up his leg until he reached his curled hand, placing his own hand on top of Louis’ hand. 

Louis’ eyes flickered to his face. His hand followed Harry’s lead and slid to his knee, rubbing Harry’s thigh.

Harry turned Louis’ hand over, thumbs massaging slow circles over his palm. He could hear Louis’ breath stutter, Louis’ hand sliding up his leg until he reached Harry’s waist. Harry lifted Louis’ hand to his lips. He kissed his knuckles, firm presses of his lips landing on each bony bump. He opened Louis’ hand and pressed his lips to his palm, Louis’ fingers moulding to his jawline.

Louis’ other hand lifted to hold Harry’s face, both leaning in at the same time. 

Harry's lips opened on top on Louis' soft mouth, Louis letting out a moaned breath and holding the side of Harry's neck. Harry's hands smoothed over Louis' bare chest, his finger trembling to touch his cheeks. 

Hands and lips strayed until they both were back on their sides, facing each other and sucking wet, desperate kisses, the duvet loose over their hips. 

The rush of kissing and touching felt so sudden, yet its origin was clear. If they could not form words to express the feelings floating around their brains, their hands and lips could do the talking. Each needy slide of tongue and squeeze of warm flesh was an unspoken answer to an unspoken question, all revolving around the throbbing sense of want and caring and nerves bundling between them.

“We’re together, yeah?” Louis whispered, lips brushing Harry's, wide eyes seeking his face. “Like, together, together?”

Harry kissed his cheek, kissing back to his mouth and moaning breathily. His shaking hand curved around Louis’ jawline.

"Y-Yeah, of course, I..." Harry wrapped an arm around Louis' shoulder, Louis laying fervent kisses on his neck. "I thought we've been together for a while, to be honest, but just didn’t...Give it a title. Give each other a title."

"I know. I did, too. Exclusive."

"Yes,” Harry said, his voice deepening to a lower rasp. “Exclusive,” he insisted. “Exactly.”

“Right,” Louis said on top of Harry’s words. “Exclusive.” He kissed under his chin, fingernails digging into his lower back. “In a…” He pressed their open lips together, tilting his head, both moaning and snuggling closer in bed. “In...A...”

Harry nodded and said, “Yeah, I just didn't know...Wasn't sure..." over Louis, both rambling between kisses.

Louis stopped mouthing whatever inch of skin he could get his lips on, pulling his face out of Harry’s collar bone. 

“Alright, so, we’re…” Louis said, trailing off, raising his eyebrows. “We’re…” He flattened his hand in the centre of Harry’s chest, whispering, “In a relationship?”

“Yes, please,” Harry breathed out, his voice shaking. Louder than he planned, he said, “Yes,” his foot involuntarily kicking Louis’ shin.

Louis started to laugh, their smiles uncontrollable, a whirlwind of quick kisses bringing even more bubbling energy between them.

“I’m yours?” Louis asked, planting a loud kiss on Harry’s lips, his arms wound around his neck. They kissed softer, more laziness in their easy sucks. Louis panted slightly, adding, “And you’re mine?” 

“Yes, yes, yes,” Harry said, nodding and kissing Louis for each answer. The words yours and mine echoed through both of their brains, fresh heat searing over every inch of them. “I want to be your boyfriend. Want to be yours. Officially.”

“You are my boyfriend,” Louis said with a loopy smile, scratching his fingers across Harry’s scalp. “My official boyfriend.”

Harry exhaled, his smile blazing, and leaned into his touch. 

“And you’re my boyfriend,” he whispered, tone deepened with awe. His strong arm held Louis’ closer, his hands rubbing over his lower back. He giggled softly and said, “Oh my God,” as he laughed, his nose crinkling, Louis’ eyes curving with amusement. Harry stroked Louis’ cheek, “We’re boyfriends.”

“We are.” Louis giggled along with him. He rolled Harry onto his back and flattened on top, the duvet clinging to Louis’ arse. He cupped Harry’s face. “You look like it’s Christmas morning or something.”

“It sort of is!” Harry lifted his hands in the air and crashed them onto Louis’ arse, squeezing him through the duvet with both hands. “And what a gift to receive.”

Louis threw his head back to laugh, Harry nuzzling his nose against the front of his throat.

Harry added, “I feel like we should, I dunno. Have champagne or something.”

Louis looked around the dark bedroom, his brows raised. He brought his warm, googly-eyed gaze back to Harry’s equally mushy face, smiling.

“Don’t see any in here,” he kissed his cheek, “but it’s a lovely sentiment.”

Harry grinned and tilted his head, brushing their lips together. He swapped their positions, Louis now spread on his back with Harry straddling him.

“Well, lucky for you, your boyfriend is a chef,” Harry said, voice know-it-all, his eyes shining. Louis’ face shone right back at him, both lighting up the dark bedroom like thousands of watts of fairy lights. “So,” he stroked Louis’ cheekbone, “he has those sort of things on hand, if you’d like.”

Louis hummed, nodding and murmuring, “My boyfriend does?”

Harry nodded back.

“He does,” he said wisely, widening his eyes.

Louis’ faux-seriousness broke into a smile.

“Are we going to be an obnoxious couple that refers to each other as boyfriend in public all the time?” While still smiling, he wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “I’ve been around way too many couples who overuse the word boyfriend.”

Harry moaned into Louis’ neck, starting to quickly kiss and bite over the sensitive skin of his collar bones. Louis laughed under the fast, rapid-fire kisses, arching his neck and spreading his legs. He hugged Harry, rubbing his foot along the back of Harry’s thigh.

“Champagne gets you hard?” Louis asked, sliding one hand between their bodies.

“You referred to us as a couple,” Harry said, his voice gruff, his cock grinding into Louis’ teasing touch. “Jesus Christ,” he lifted his face from Louis’ neck, their lips pursing to kiss softly. “You called us a couple.”

Louis squeezed him, stroking once.

“We are a couple,” his lips quirked higher at the ends, “mon lapin.”

Harry deepened his voice to growl, “Oui, oui, oui, mon petit ami,” while biting playful kisses on Louis’ neck, pulling bubbly laughter from Louis’ body and causing any thoughts of sleep to evaporate into the moonlit night sky that enveloped the happy, new couple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from my favorite Tegan and Sara song, [ Relief Next To Me ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yftgnkdan8%20)
> 
> Come say hello on [ LJ](http://dolce-piccante.livejournal.com) and [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com)


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing with our duo as they explore life as boyfriends! Lots of sex, some talking, some friend time, and bits of plot somewhere in there. 
> 
> Please note that this is completely fictional, nothing mentioning the characters or their families is true at ALL. No offense intended, this is all fiction. There are a few kinks mentioned in this chapter that might not be your cup of tea. Hopefully no one will be offended!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello! Yes, yes, this is painfully late, I know, SORRYYYY! I’ve had a lot of changes in my life lately which will hopefully give me more free time for fun stuff, so I thank you for your patience! Hopefully the next time I update it will not be a different season!
> 
> Humongous thanks must go to my lovely warrior beta [Jess](whitechimes.tumblr.com), who endures countless lunatic texts each day from me and somehow manages to wade through my mess of GoogleDocs. She’s had a lot going on in her life, too, and for her to devote so much time to me and my fic is just so generous and kind. Thank youuu!
> 
> Thank you to all of the wonderful, patient readers who have stuck by this fic! Thank you to the people who commented on the last chapter (and every chapter!), thank you to the anon ask people on Tumblr (I wish I knew who you were so I could thank you properly!), and big thank you to the Tumblr people who send the legit cutest, sweetest messages of support. You all really helped me feel happy during a stressful time in my life, so thank you thank you for that!
> 
> Enjoy!

Niall unlocked the door to his flat and pushed inside, letting it slam shut behind him. He winced and checked his watch, then relaxed, noting that it was just after one in the afternoon. He dropped his rucksack next to the door, his trainers kicked off beside the bag.

He spun his keys around his left index finger, pulling the refrigerator open with his right hand. He pushed two bottles of water aside in his search for one of Harry's fancy green juices. Though he might tease his mate about his healthy habits, one of those liquified leaf creations would get him through the day after a night of minimal sleep.

He palmed his cock and pushed it to the left, lifting his leg to allow himself to shift in his tight jeans, still spinning his keys around his finger and whistling LMFAO's Party Rock Anthem.

Rhythmic creaks interrupted his whistling, a low, but loud, "Lou," causing his keys to slow in their rotations.

Niall's smile spread suddenly over his face, his eyes widening under the glow of the open fridge. He grabbed a bottle of neon green juice and shut the door with his bum, spinning around. 

He heard faster bed creaks and unison moaning growing louder, more frantic, Harry's voice breaking through the closed door for another loud, "Oh, fuck, Louis. Louis!"

He looked around the kitchen, stepping closer to the island in the centre. There was a bowl with one plump strawberry sitting in a puddle of water, Niall tilting an empty champagne bottle towards himself. 

"I wonder if a bubble bath was involved," he said aloud, biting into the strawberry.

Louis' shaking voice moaning, "You're so fucking beautiful, you dirty--Ungh!--Perfect fuck," came through the wall clear as a bell.

"Definite bubble bath," Niall said while still chewing, plopping the green stem into the bowl of water.

He saw another empty champagne bottle beside Harry's closed bedroom door. Their breathy panting and barked moans grew louder and louder, the crescendo coordinating with the quickening slam of a headboard against the wall.

Amongst the noise, he heard a conversation of whimpers, Harry's lower groans as even as his quickening breaths, Louis' higher voice seeming to wail more after each rapid succession of headboard bangs.

Niall put his hand over his mouth, giggling into his palm. He took his phone out of his pocket and opened a group text, both Harry and Louis’ voices swelling to what sounded like quite the climax behind the closed door.

**i think our boys had a good night last night**

He added a photo of their path of fruit and champagne bottles, the headboard bangs slowing. He heard Louis sigh high in his voice, Harry’s murmuring voice melting into a lower sigh, both breathing loudly in unison.

Harry's voice mumbled something that ended with, "--orrrr amaaaazing," his words slower than usual.

Liam replied:

_L hasn’t replied to a text since yesterday...suspicious suspicious!_

To which Niall giggled aloud, “ **They’ve been busy,** ” while typing the same thing.

_*gettin* busy aha! XXX_

Zayn’s reply pulled another loud laugh from Niall. He was sure Zayn and Liam were likely together, texting at the same time in the same group message. 

He glued his lips together and grabbed his bottle of juice before tiptoeing towards his bedroom. As he opened the door, he heard the sound of two soft voices laughing from the other side of the flat. Niall thumbed over the cool metal knob, biting his bottom lip, smiling at the grains of wood running vertically through his door. 

He couldn’t see into Harry’s bedroom, but from the low murmurs between laughter, Harry was saying, or doing, something that sent Louis into bursts of loud giggles. He had a flash of them lying in Harry’s mussed bed, surrounded by white linens, their faces flushed and smiles wide.

He took his phone out of his pocket and composed a text, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

**had an amazing time last night :))) thanks for letting me stay over...want to get sushi later?**

He saw three dots appear in a gray bubble, indicating that the person on the other end was typing. Then the dots disappeared. No response came in the dot’s place, Niall’s smile fading. 

The sound of both Harry and Louis laughing brought his smile back a touch, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He pocketed his phone and stepped into his bedroom, picking up his headphones from his dresser and closing the door behind him.

...

Liam checked his phone for the time and opened their group text, glancing around the empty cafe. As he started to compose a message, the cafe door jingled. He looked up at the sound. His breath rushed out of his body and he smiled, standing from the table.

“Hey, babe,” Zayn said upon reaching the table, a matching smile on his face. He leaned over and pecked Liam's lips, squeezing his shoulder. “You look hot.”

Liam's eyes crinkled while he chuckled and said, “You just saw me this morning.”

Zayn pulled the center of his shirt away from his chest.

“You know I can't resist you in your scrubs, especially the blue ones. Makes me wanna play doctor.”

Liam grinned and sat down, Zayn taking the chair next to him.

“We’re in a restaurant, babe,” Liam said, nudging his trainer into Zayn’s shin. “Not really the place.”

“So?” Zayn slouched back in his chair and shrugged his coat off, tongue darting over his bottom lip. He smiled, relaxing with his body leaning in Liam’s direction. “Doctor’s don’t eat in restaurants?”

“Where's Lou?” Liam asked, fighting a wide smile, his cheeks heated. He checked his watch, a warm hand rubbing the top of his thigh. “Thought he'd be with you.”

“He's coming from a shoot, so I guess he's running late. I'm glad we were all free to meet up.” Zayn squeezed Liam's leg. “Weird seeing you during the work day.” He took his phone out of his pocket and opened their group text. “Did you tell him we're here yet?”

“No, not yet,” Liam said, unlocking his phone. “Should we—Oh,” he nudged his chin towards the large window at the front of the cafe, “there he is.”

Louis had paused in front of the window with his face down, black Ray Bans blocking his eyes, fingers flying over his phone. Zayn and Liam's phones buzzed.

_@ portobellos. waiting for H outside. u 2 here?_

Zayn started to text a reply but stopped, Liam wrapping his hand around his forearm.

“Look,” Liam whispered, eyes sparkling.

They watched Harry sneak up behind Louis, a dramatic, tip-toed, high knees sort of sneak. He poked Louis’ sides and Louis spun around, already smiling wide. He slapped Harry's bicep, pulling him into his body at the same time with his other hand. 

Their arms wound around each other, Louis’ arms looped over Harry’s shoulders and Harry’s palms flat on Louis’ lower back. Their lips fused together, both stepping sideways in unison, ducking next to the brick cafe wall. They were hidden from the street but on the very edge of the cafe window, just close enough for two nosy patrons to watch.

Louis lifted himself up on his toes and pulled Harry down while they kissed, his fingers tight in Harry’s wild hair, Harry’s hand clenching in the bottom of Louis’ black jacket. They broke their kiss for Louis to press his mouth to Harry’s neck, Harry lifting Louis to his very tippy toes until Louis’ foot linked behind Harry’s ankle.

“Oh. My. God,” Zayn whispered even softer, wide eyed. “Did Harry actually slay the Tommobeast?”

“I can't believe Lou hasn't cut his tongue out by now,” Liam said, equally awed, shaking his head. “The last person who I saw kiss Louis in public was Jane Aaron in the sandbox when we were five.” Liam's tone dropped, as if he was talking about war or death. “Louis flushed her crayons down the toilet and filled her cubby with mud.”

They could see Harry say something with his lips just barely brushing Louis' mouth, his comment making Louis drop his head back to laugh.

Zayn asked, “Think he's going to flush Harry's crayons down the toilet?”

Outside, Louis said something that made Harry grin before he was pressed into the wall, their lips meeting again and Harry's right hand settling on Louis' arse.

“Not likely,” Liam deadpanned. 

He opened their group text and sent the message:

**we're here...windows aren't tinted btw**

Zayn read the message and laughed, a rasped, barked noise that echoed around the restaurant, Liam giggling quieter. 

Both watched out the window, Louis and Harry pulling apart to check their phones. Louis' lips pursed forward to read, Harry still thumbing in his password. Louis looked inside the cafe, his mouth slightly agape and his face pale while Harry burst out laughing, his hand flying up to muffle the sound.

…

“Mum,” Louis said, drawing out the vowel, putting throbs of sobbing sounds every other second. He grit his teeth at his iPhone screen, his mother making the exact same face back at him, both growling. Louis broke first and started to laugh. “Just tell me how much it is and I’ll transfer it right now.”

“By the time your cheque would get here, I’d have already paid, love.”

Louis’ nose wrinkled. 

“Who writes actual cheques anymore?”

She picked up a black leather cheque book from her pile of paperwork and wiggled it towards her iPhone, light streaming through the kitchen window, a cup of milky tea next to her open accordion file.

“Just because you can’t spell numbers doesn’t mean cheques are no longer useful," she cooed. "Spelling was never your best subject.” 

“Oh, but, haven’t you heard?” He pushed his glasses up on his nose. “There’s this thing called online banking, you see, and I can magically send funds directly to you! The wonders of science, yeah?”

Jay sighed, though a smile was firmly planted on her face.

“You don’t need to pay for their footie camp!” 

“I know I don’t need to, but I want to.” He turned the sink on, placing his phone face up on the counter. He soaped up a frying pan, angling his head to make it into the Facetime frame. “What is it, a couple hundred for both?”

“I believe it’s, uh,” he heard papers shuffling over the phone, “one-fifty for both, which includes new uniforms.”

Louis placed the frying pan in his drying rack. He started to wash a small metal bowl.

“Do they need anything else? Boots or something?”

“Their current ones are fine. Christ, you spoil them.”

Louis smiled and placed the bowl beside the frying pan, knocking the sink off. He picked up a handful of forks and spoons, opening the dishwasher. He plopped the bundle on the lower rack, pulling the top out. He placed three mugs in the top of the dishwasher, listening to the sounds of his mum doing her own kitchen cleaning across the country.

He shut his dishwasher and picked up a dish towel, drying his hands. He lifted his phone up.

“What about Lottie and Fiz? They need anything?”

“Yes!” a loud voice came from his phone, his mum saying, “Lottie, shut it,” over her shoulder, Louis smiling. Jay rolled her eyes. “As if they’re so deprived.”

“I need a new iPad,” Fiz’s voice said in the background, her pretty face jumping into the frame. “And we both need Michael Kors flats.” She tilted her head, cheerful and smiling. “I can text you the link.”

“Talk about spoiled,” Louis said, grinning amusedly. “I think my taste in Christmas gifts has ruined you two. I didn’t buy myself an iPad until last year! What happened to the days where you liked getting stickers and glitter glue in the mail?”

Lottie sighed, “You’re getting old, Lou,” as she walked past Jay, a gray hoodie pulled over her head and a mug of coffee cradled in her hands. “Glitter glue? Seriously?”

Jay cackled, pulling a rubber band around her accordion file. Louis checked his reflection in the oven, tilting his chin up, turning his face to the right and touching beside his eye.

“Stop looking for wrinkles, you’re gorgeous,” Jay’s voice said, Louis’ eyes snapping to his phone. “Besides, you come from good stock. Look at this face.” She tilted her head in a mirrored position, Louis’ face crinkling to smile. “We don’t wrinkle, love.”

A key jiggled in the lock of his door, Louis lifting his wrist up. He blinked at the time, just about one, then looked over his shoulder. The key got stuck, then jiggled again, the combination only seeming to happen to one person whenever they tried to let themselves in.

“Who’s that, Li?” Jay asked, her face floating into the living room of his childhood home. “I want to say hello. I heard he grew a beard? Karen clued me in.”

“No, it’s Harry,” Louis said, putting the phone face down on his kitchen table. “Hold on.”

“Oh, I want to see him! Let me say hello!” her voice shouted, causing the phone to vibrate against the wood. 

Louis looked around the kitchen and grabbed a towel, throwing it over the phone. His mum’s rambling was muffled, the phone still buzzing on the table.

Harry’s head popped into the flat.

“Hello there,” he said, his voice low and his smile wide. “Henri came in and felt up to helping Helena, so I got out super early. Magic Saturday, yeah?” 

He shut the door behind him, pocketing his keys. He walked closer, a white box balanced between his left hand and his hip. He held it out, his eyes tired but his smile bright. 

“I come bearing croissants. Even managed to snag an almond one for you. There was almost a bakery brawl, but,” he held his hand over his heart, “I was victorious.” He handed Louis the box and bent lower, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Harry pulled back and chuckled. He whispered, “Why so quiet?”

“My mum is over there,” Louis whispered back, thumbing at the table.

Harry blinked, his eyes sliding to the single towel in the centre of his kitchen table. The towel shivered, quiet, muffled noises matching up with the slight movements.

“She’s a lot tinier than I imagined.”

Louis snorted and pressed his nose against Harry’s jacket collar.

“We’re Facetiming.”

“Ah, okay,” Harry said, his voice dropping. He held an imaginary key to his lips and twisted it. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Need to shower, anyway.” He shrugged his coat off, the sharp smell of his sweat and sweet sugar hitting Louis all at once. Louis pressed his face to the base of Harry’s neck. “I stink.”

“She…” Louis turned his face on Harry’s chest, his cheek pressed just about nipple height. “She wants to meet you. Like, over the phone.”

Harry’s motions slowed, his coat looped over his right forearm.

“Oh, uh, okay.” He ran his right hand through the front of his hair and pulled his hand away. “Do I have stuff all over me?”

“You don’t have to,” Louis whispered quickly, hands clenching the loose bottom of Harry’s white tee. “I promise, this is totally not required and if you’re not comfortable, that is a million percent fine.”

Harry’s eyes went soft, his smile even softer, his fingers gentle on Louis’ cheek.

“I’d love to,” he whispered, Louis’ lips crashing into his. Harry laughed into their kiss and ruffled his hair. He placed his coat on the nearest kitchen chair. “I just hope she can’t smell me through the phone.”

Louis let his nose press against the centre of Harry’s chest, sniffing sideways until he reached the crux of his arm.

“You smell good to me.”

Harry whispered, “Do you really want your mum to know that?”

“Shit,” Louis said, holding the vowel on a grimace. “I’m mucking this up already. You look perfect, by the way.” He stroked Harry’s cheeks. “No butter blobs in sight,” his palm moulded to his jawline, “just that beautiful face.”

Harry smiled, his cheeks flushing, and walked towards the kitchen table, smoothing his hands down the front of his shirt. Louis picked up the dish towel.

“Hi, we’re back,” he said. His own voice sounded weird to his ears, too cheerful and stiff, like a newscaster on speed. Harry’s warm hand rubbed up the back of his striped tee, Louis’ smile relaxing. He looked to his phone and his face fell, his wrist angling the phone in his direction alone. “Oi, what’s with all this? Where’d you all come from? This was supposed to be mum only.”

Harry peeked at the screen. Instead of one woman, there were five faces staring back at him, all with similar features to Louis, some resembling him more than others. The two littlest, youngest faces were serious, their lips set in firm lines. One had a sparkly pink headband keeping her straight hair in place, while the other had a navy blue beanie pulled over her head. A bleach blond blinked her big eyes at him, chewing a Twizzler, while a brunette with shimmery makeup on her cheekbones remained almost perfectly still.

“I figured if we were all around, we might as well kill five birds with one stone,” Jay said, her voice bouncy. Her large eyes darted to the edge of the screen, her nose crinkling in such a familiar way. “Is that Harry? Hello, darling, I’m Johannah. Jay,” she said, her voice softer. “So lovely to meet you.” 

“Hello,” the girls said in unison, a chorus of female voices in varying pitches.

“Hello everyone,” Harry said, lifting his hand. He smiled wider and leaned closer to Louis, who was smiling down at the table. He could feel heat coming off of Louis’ face. “Yes, I’m Harry. So nice to meet you, too. I’ve heard so much about all of you, it’s truly a pleasure.”

“Harry just got out of work,” Louis said, clearing his throat. He shifted his hips, his lips twitching not to smile wider, Harry’s arm a soothing weight around his hips. “Got out a bit earlier than usual for a Saturday.”

A small voice asked, “Where do you work?” 

“I work in a bakery,” Harry answered, mentally cataloguing which twin asked. Based on the headband, he’d guess that was Daisy, the one who preferred My Little Pony. “I’m a baker.”

“He baked your cake, duh,” Lottie whispered, the twins nodding quickly in unison.

“It was delicious!” Phoebe chirped, her beanie going crooked on her head. “And the colours! The colours!” He pale eyes widened excitedly. “Thank you!”

Harry grinned and nodded, squeezing Louis’ hip. 

“You’re very welcome. Glad you liked it. I love colours, too.”

“So, like,” Lottie’s Twizzler pointed at the screen, “you two are, like, boyfriends?”

“Charlotte,” Jay chided, the other girls giggling. Louis let out a tiny whimper, the sound too soft for the phone to pick up on it, and Harry chuckled, rubbing Louis’ arse out of frame. “Sorry, boys, they won’t stop asking questions about Harry this and Harry that.”

“Only because Lou is always blabbing about him,” Fiz said, sipping a large mug of tea.

“Ha ha,” Louis said, moving his thumb to end the call. His eyes darted to Harry, his lips trembling to remain pursed forward. “That’s not true, by the way.” 

Harry laughed and caught his hand before he touched the screen.

“It’s alright,” he said, holding the phone to face them again. “I talk about your brother to my sis, too. Only little bits here and there, but I think it makes sense, you know? We care about each other very much and we spend a lot of time together.” He looked to Louis, his dimple showing with his mouth in a smooth, close-lipped smile. “Yeah?”

“Uh, y-yeah, of course,” Louis sputtered, nodding. He looked back at his family, but his attention were drawn to his mother’s face. Her lips were slightly open, her eyes widened, her brows arched high. “Uh,” Louis thumbed sideways, “Harry has to take a shower, so maybe we should cut this short.”

“Harry takes showers at your flat?” Daisy asked, her small head tilting. 

Lottie and Fiz burst out laughing, Jay’s calm smile fading fast. Harry giggled, but recovered quickly, schooling his features, Louis rubbing his hand over his face next to him. His glasses were crooked on his nose, his hair sticking up on the right side.

“You look a mess, Lou,” Lottie said on a laugh.

Louis blinked, his forehead tilting forward. 

“And you want Michael Kors flats?”

“Just saying."

“Girls, go clean something. You’ve got chores to do,” Jay said, fluttering her hand at them. They all groaned, Jay speaking, “I need to talk to your brother,” over them. “Shoo. Make yourselves useful.”

Harry waved at the girls.

“Lovely to meet you all,” he said. His eyes fell on Jay’s smiling face. “And you, as well, so nice to see you. Hope to see you in person soon.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Jay said, her voice warm.

“Have a refreshing shower,” Fiz said from out of frame, a chorus of giggles following. 

Jay shook her head with her eyes shut, her fingers pressed to her temple.

“Sorry, darling, they’re all a bit giddy about you,” she said to Harry, adjusting her messy bun. “Lou’s first proper boyfriend, and all, at least the first time we found out a name.” Louis smiled tightly, stepping on his own foot. Jay’s eyes widened and darted to Louis. “Shit, sorry.” She sucked air in through her clenched teeth. “Was I not supposed to say that out loud?”

“He knows,” Louis said, Harry turning his face away from the phone. Louis heard what sounded like muffled laughter from both beside him and through his iPhone speakers. “It’s fine.”

“I’m very glad you know my name,” Harry said, bringing his face back into the frame. 

An unidentifiable female voice shouted, “And your pretty face!”

Harry and Louis both started to laugh, Harry running his fingers through the front of his hair, ruffling it.

“Anyway, I’d better go. I’ll let you get back to your mum-son chat,” Harry said, smushing his face up against Louis’ cheek, both laughing with their faces jumbled on the small screen. Louis’ glasses went higher on the right side, the plastic digging into Harry’s cheek. “Thanks for letting me crash your conversation.”

“Of course!” Jay said. Her phone went wonky, her fingers rubbing over the lens. “I’m just so happy to talk with you. To meet you!”

“As if I’m chopped liver,” Louis teased, Harry pinching his arse.

“I’ll see you soon, Jay.” Louis palmed Harry’s crotch, giving him a firm squeeze in return. Harry’s eyebrows rose, as did his voice. “Lovely to meet you.”

“Yes, yes, definitely!” Her face reappeared. “We can do lunch. Maybe we’ll invite Lou.” She winked. “Maybe.”

“I love a good lunch,” Harry said, grinning. “Sounds perfect.”

“Bye, bye, sweetheart.”

Harry waved and stepped away, ruffling Louis’ hair. Louis snorted and pawed his hand. When he looked back at the phone, Jay was smiling at him, her chin resting on her hand, her eyes soft.

Louis narrowed his gaze, pushing his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose.

“Mum, did you just...Did you just screencap us?”

“I did! Nan wanted to know what Harry looked like.”

Louis looked towards Harry, Harry’s laughter echoing from his hallway. Harry turned to face him as he peeled his tee over his head, his abs flickering with the motion. Louis’ head involuntarily tilted sideways, his mouth popping open. Harry winked and turned away, back muscles swaying as he walked. Louis swallowed and looked back to his mother, pasting a smile on his face.

“Well,” Jay said, her voice high, her eyes knowing. She let a beat pass, Louis’ smile growing more genuine. One of her eyebrows arched. “Isn’t he a dream?”

“He is indeed very dreamy,” Louis said, nodding his head. “So dreamy that I sometimes don’t understand how he’s real, but, apparently, he is real.” He ran his hand through the front of his hair. “Of all days to screencap, you pick a messy glasses day.”

“Harry didn’t seem to mind.”

Louis’ eyes did a dramatic roll up to the screen.

“Really, mum? Really?”

Jay’s nose twitched, her hand over her mouth. She giggled lightly behind her hand. 

“He’s so lovely, Lou.”

“Yeah,” Louis said, rubbing the back of his neck. “He is.”

“You’re blushing! My boy is blushing! You never blush!”

“I think my battery is about to die. We might have to end this call.”

“Bullshit,” she laughed, blowing a raspberry, Louis laughing along with her. “Anyway, I’ll leave you alone about Harry. I think I’ve mortified you enough for today.”

“Thank God.”

They chatted about various dates coming up, family events and footie matches and the potential for a family holiday. Somehow, talking about family matters morphed into his mother making comments about Harry’s beautiful eyes or height or manly tone of voice, each one seeming to send her into an excited fit of quick talking. After nearly thirty minutes of puttering around together on Facetime, both Louis and Jay were running low on battery power.

“What on earth is that noise?”

Louis’ brows moved inward, tiny wrinkles breaking out on his forehead.

“What noise?”

“It’s like a wolf or something. Are you watching Game of Thrones again? That show is so violent and bloody, I don’t know how you do it.”

He listened for a moment, his brows relaxing.

“Oh, that’s Harry. He snores. He probably passed out in my room. He’s up at around four every Saturday and his work is so physically grueling.”

“Poor lamb wakes up so early! No wonder he’s exhausted.”

Louis laughed. 

“You’re a nurse who wakes up early and is around blood all day, yet you sympathize with Harry and the cast of Game of Thrones?”

“Are you going to go join him for a nap?”

“This call is over,” Louis said, his face blank, Jay laughing loudly with her head dropped back. “I’ll tell you I have a boyfriend named Harry, but I cannot bring myself to discuss anything further.”

“I just want to make sure my son’s boyfriend is treating him right.” Her long lashes blinked slowly. “In every way.”

Louis’ stoneface broke, an unsung laugh vibrating from within his chest. He shook his head, fighting a smile.

“This call is over.”

“Oh, c’mon, Lou!”

“If you want to talk boys, go talk to Fiz.”

Jay lowered her voice to a hissed whisper.

“I can’t talk about adult matters with Fiz.”

“You can’t talk about adult matters with me!” Louis exclaimed, his laughter escaping, Jay hysterical on the other end of the call. “All you need to know is that Harry is a wonderful boyfriend and I’m very lucky.”

“Wonderful in every way?”

Louis swallowed and opened his mouth, then shut it. He stared at his mum’s smirking face, his head shaking side to side. He could feel that his face was burning, a deep, bright blush that he only seemed to get in regards to one person on earth.

“He is...” His small smile twitched wider, his eyes directed at the ceiling. “Wonderful,” he drew the word out on a drawl, “in every way.” He raised his eyebrows, looking back at the phone, grinning. “Happy?”

They wrapped up their conversation and Louis finished tidying up the kitchen, shredding his completed pile of mail and stacking plates from the drying rack. He wiped down the countertop and sink, washing his hands quickly. 

He walked towards his bedroom and fished his iPhone from his pocket. He approved his online banking transfer of two hundred and fifty pounds into his mum’s account, replacing his phone in his pocket. She texted him before he could even let go of the phone, his other hand on his bedroom door knob.

**ur rubbish at math!! too much money crazy!!! xxxx LOVE YOU xxxx**

He smile with his lips closed, pressing the bottom of his right foot to his inner left ankle.

_you and the girls can go for dinner or manicures or whatever. have a fun wknd! love you xx_

He pocketed his phone and shut his bedroom door, leaning his back on it. He watched Harry sleep for ten full snores, his bare back rising and falling with hypnotic calmness. 

Sunlight filled the room, his curtains still wide open. The smell of soap and shower water warmed his nostrils, the bathroom dark and the mirror still steamy. He stepped up to the bed, walking slowly to Harry’s side. 

The duvet covered the right half of his body, while the left half was nothing but smooth skin and lean muscle from head to toe, the blanket accentuating the divide. Harry was tall, his body that of a man, but something about him snoozing so peacefully on his belly seemed boyish, all snuffled snores and too-big, clumsy feet.

Wondering if Harry was real was a thought that niggled his brain from time to time. Then Harry would remember that he liked almond croissants and tell his sisters that he cared about him and trust Louis enough to sleep in his bed, and those thoughts melted into the spongy matter inside Louis’ head.

Louis sat on the end of the bed. He bent over and pressed his lips firmly to the arch of Harry’s foot, holding his foot with both hands. He kissed the back of his calf, Harry’s ankle rolling on the mattress. Louis smiled and kissed behind his knee softer, kissing up the back of his thigh. He dropped smaller, softer kisses over his bum, his body flattening on the small space between Harry’s body and the edge of the bed.

Harry bent his leg, his knee bumping into Louis’ thigh. Louis kissed up his ribs, pressing his lips for a long beat on the top of his shoulder.

“Hi,” Harry rasped, wrapping his arm around Louis’ back. He scooted his body backwards, smiling sleepily with his eyes shut. “C’mere.”

Louis cuddled against him, his face pressing into Harry’s neck. His glasses crunched on his nose, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He fluffed the duvet over his body, Harry’s arm pulling him closer. He ran his fingers through Harry’s hair, taking a deep breath with his nose beneath Harry’s ear.

Harry’s body went limp, his snores starting up as if they never stopped. 

Louis had started to create a mental catalogue of how Harry smelled from the day they first met. There were so many variables that minutely altered Harry’s scent, from what he ate that day to how active he was that day to how long he had been wearing the clothes on his body to what material his clothing was made of. He always smelled both familiar and foreign, like nothing and everything all at once, since he rarely used any scented products.

“You smell so good,” Louis whispered to himself. He kissed Harry’s neck, petting the back of his damp hair. From his position, he was able to hear and feel low vibrations from Harry’s Adam’s apple. “Your hair’s getting long.”

Harry took a few seconds before he breathed in deeply, murmuring, “Too long?”

“Nah.” Louis stroked the back of his hair, curling his index finger around the strands at the base of his neck. “It’s sexy on you.”

“I’m never cutting my hair again.”

Louis laughed softly, kissing the tip of Harry’s nose. Harry’s hands slid down Louis’ lower back, palms settling on his arse. He didn’t squeeze or grip, just let his hands rest there while he dozed, Louis playing with his hair.

One tiny braid along the right side of his hair later (he did have sisters, after all), Harry squeezed Louis’ arse, his snores tapering into a quiet snort.

“Want me to get up?” 

“No, not at all,” Louis whispered, smoothing his hand up and down Harry’s back. “Sleep.”

“Good chat with your mum?”

Louis kissed the centre of Harry’s chest.

“Yeah. Thanks for…” He gently pinched Harry’s nipple. “Being you. Being so cool with it.” He thumbed over his nipple, murmuring, “Means so much to me.”

“Of course.” Harry rubbed between his shoulder blades, kissing the top of his head. “No need to say thank you. Though I hope you know,” Harry’s eyes fluttered open, “that we’ll need to Facetime with my mum in the near future,” Louis started to smile, “or she’ll kill me, she’ll be so jealous.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. As much as I like keeping you all to myself, I think I need to share you.” Harry rolled onto his back and propped an arm behind his head, his bicep flickering. “She emailed me your photo from the Simone website.”

Louis gasped, “No,” on a laugh, his jaw dropped. Harry started to giggle, nodding. “Are you serious?”

“I am. She said, ‘Why did I have to become a stalker to see my son’s boyfriend’s face?’” Harry’s eyes flickered down Louis’ body, his striped tee scrunched just above his navel. “I didn’t even know you had a photo on the website, to be honest.”

“Sassy.” Louis’ eyebrows rose and fell quickly. “I like it.”

“You look hot in your photo,” Harry said. Louis rolled his eyes, pressing his fingers into his ribs. “It’s true!” Harry laughed, holding Louis’ fingers still, Louis smiling against his shoulder. “All business man and tight trousers.”

“They weren’t that tight!”

“You wear a suit well, that’s all I’m saying.”

“I’m glad you think so.” 

Louis lifted himself up, sliding one leg over Harry’s hips. He touched Harry’s cheeks, light fingertips on his cheekbones. He leaned lower, thumbing over his lips. Harry’s lips pursed to kiss the pad of Louis’ thumb, Louis bringing their lips together and sucking a slow, tender kiss, Harry’s bicep clenching in his peripheral vision. 

"You were really sweet to my sisters,” Louis murmured.

Harry’s lips quirked.

“They’re fun girls. And your mum is so pretty.” He brought his fingers the the bridge of Louis’ glasses, using his middle finger to push them higher on his nose. “You have the same eyes.” He let the pad of his finger drag down the bridge of Louis’ nose. “Same nose, too.” 

“You seemed comfortable talking to kids.”

“I am.”

“Do you want kids?”

“Now?”

Louis let out a breathy burst of laughter, Harry smiling and rubbing his outer thighs.

“No,” Louis said, his laughter calming. “Like, eventually.”

“Eventually, yeah. For sure. I figure that my baker schedule will work in my favour then, because I can be around to pick the kids up from school, help with homework, make dinner, put them to sleep.” He smiled, his dimple showing. “All that fun stuff.”

Harry’s answer was so simple, so easy, so willing to be that sort of a dad, that Louis said, “Same,” without any hesitation. Harry’s teeth gently nibbled his bottom lip, ribbing it back and forth, his eyes glued to Louis’ face. “Eventually, like you said,” Louis added. “I figure…” His features scrunched. “Maybe around thirty-ish? Thirty-two, thirty-one? Depending on what life is like at that point. I wanna be young enough to run around with them when they’re little.”

“I think that’s a good number,” Harry said quietly, his eyes soft and dancing with happiness. “It probably sounds bad, but I want a few more selfish years, you know?” He plucked Louis’ glasses off his face. “Once kids are in the picture everything changes.”

“That is my exact line of thinking.”

Harry’s smiled widened. He slid Louis’ glasses on himself.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Louis nodded, both hands pinching the corners of his glasses and tilting them on Harry’s nose. “I completely understand.”

Harry propped both hands behind his head. He spread his legs, cradling Louis with the top of his thighs.

“I’m glad we agree.”

They held eye contact for a long beat, the tips of Louis’ unmoving fingers lightly touching Harry’s ribs, both smiling. Louis leaned down, his hands flat on Harry’s biceps. Harry’s eyes fell shut before Louis’ lips even touched his own, just a breath of a kiss before Louis pulled back.

“We have big talks either in the shower or in bed,” Louis said, rubbing his hands up to Harry’s hands. Harry hummed his reply, his legs moving closer to his body, the motion pushing Louis lower. Their lips brushed, their fingers linking behind Harry’s head. “I’m sorry I interrupted your nap.”

“My nap in your bed?” Harry chuckled. “In your glasses?”

Louis brought his hands between his shoulder blades. He pulled his shirt over his head and let it fall beside the bed. Harry pinched the right corner of his glasses and brought them to the tip of his nose, peering at Louis with his lips pursed forward. Louis slid to Harry’s side, his sweats joining his shirt on the floor. He took off Harry’s glasses and folded the arms, placing them on his bedside table.

“Let’s sleep a bit,” Louis said, tucking his legs under the covers. He bounced to lay on his side, his back to Harry. “Give you a lazy Saturday for once.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Harry’s arms moved around him, his nose brushing the base of Louis’ hairline. 

“Your hair smells like lemon cleanser,” Harry whispered, pressing a kiss to the base of Louis’ neck. “Like sunshine.”

He felt Louis’ feet tuck between his ankles, his lips smiling into soft, caramel hair.

…

“I can't believe you two,” Louis said, handing Harry his empty cup. “You totally have a monopoly on sick rooftop party venues. You should build a bridge between your buildings to complete the monopoly.”

Ed smiled into the last of his cup and swallowed, handing it up to Harry. He licked his lips, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his striped jumper.

“I know it turned out a bit chilly today, but this isn't the first scarf party we've thrown,” Ed said, adjusting the red flannel scarf around his neck. “Sometimes you just need to be in the sun, even if your nipples could cut glass.”

Louis laughed, Harry asking him, “Doesn't your building have a garden on the roof?”

“I have no idea.” Louis squinted, pursing his lips slightly to the side. “How did you know that?”

“I think Liam told me. We were talking about herb gardening.”

Louis and Ed both blinked up at Harry, baffled. Harry shrugged, smiling, his cheeks reddened.

“What? Liam said he likes to use fresh mint in his body oil.”

Ed pondered, “Why were you talking to Liam about his body oil practices?”

“Actually, where's Liam?” Louis asked, glancing around the crowded rooftop, sitting up straighter. “He took my phone because his died. The last time he did that, Zayn downloaded all these obscene photos as my caller IDs. You don’t even want to know the photo he set as my mum.”

“I think he and Zayn were talking in the kitchen,” Ed said, standing. He brushed his hands over his jeans. “But, hey, bud,” he scrunched his fingers at their cups, “I'm the host. I can do refills.”

“No, no, nope,” Harry said, smiling crookedly and pulling them back. “You two chat. I need to warm up for a bit. I think I'm going to go for beer this time. What do you both want?”

“One of whatever you're having,” Louis said. He smiled up at Harry, the brightness of nearby fairy lights giving his face a rainbow glow. “Thanks so much.”

Ed nodded and said, “Same,” batting his eyelashes up at Harry.

Harry narrowed his eyes at Ed, smirking, and moved away.

“Why do I feel like leaving you alone together is going to result in an embarrassing Harry story time?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Ed said, patting between Louis' shoulder blades. “I even typed up an agenda for points to discuss.”

“I love a good agenda,” Louis said, eyes twinkling at Harry. He tugged the end of his charcoal scarf, adjusting it on his neck. His eyes widened minutely. “Extra points if there are Post-Its or colorful tabs involved.”

He smiled slowly and Harry's mouth mirrored the motion. There was a beat where neither moved outwardly, their minds doing a blast to the past in unison. Harry could feel thin slivers of cut Post-Its under his fingertips, Louis able to see the bright orange of the tabs Harry used to organize his files.

“Oi, less googly eyes and more drinks, yeah?” Ed said, snapping between their faces. “You two, I swear. You’re like the heart eyes Emoji come to life.”

“What—What googly, uh, heart eyes?” Harry stumbled over his words, his brows furrowing together. Louis started to giggle with his hand on his stomach, the sound drowned out by Ed’s loud kissing noises. “I swear.” Harry pointed the cups from Ed to Louis. “Dangerous.” Harry smiled and started to walk away, looking over his shoulder to add, “Please be gentle.”

“I'll only tell the embarrassing ones from the last calendar year,” Ed said, giving him a thumbs up. “That's fair, yeah?”

Harry's laugh was muffled by the crowd of people, his head bobbing through the group to get back into the building.

Ed sat back in his lounge chair, Louis shifting around on the old sofa beside him. Louis sat on his foot and dipped his head back, his eyes falling shut.

“In truth,” Ed said, propping his hands behind his head, “I don't really have too many embarrassing Harry stories to share.”

Louis smiled with his eyes still closed.

“Even if you did, Harry probably would just laugh them off anyway,” Louis said in reply, shrugging one shoulder. He opened his eyes. “He’s mellow,” he said softer, gaze seeking out a head of wavy hair. He smiled to himself, staring at something through the tiny kitchen window. “Laid back.”

Niall's chattering voice was piped through a microphone in the distance, his accent extra heavy and his words extra unintelligible. Louis looked towards the sound, his eyes moving from Niall's laughing mouth to a sliver of Harry's hair visible from through an open doorway next to the makeshift stage. An acoustic guitar strummed into an amp that was set too loud, Niall exclaiming, “Jesus Christ,” just as loudly into the mic.

Ed watched Harry bend down at the amp, fiddling with a few knobs until Niall’s voice stopped echoing, “Jesus Christ,” at full volume. He heard a small laugh from next to him, Louis’ face soft as Harry glanced at him from across the crowd, both simply smiling at each other.

“You're so good for him.”

Louis' eyes twitched back to Ed, his head tilting to the side.

“What?”

“Harry.”

Louis smiled, his hands itching for a glass or a bottle to fiddle with. He settled on taping his fingertips together in his lap, his smile widening.

“Harry's great,” Louis said, his lips twitching forward, then springing back to smile. “Bakes one hell of a scone.”

“How did I know you'd give nothing away?”

They both laughed, Louis rubbing his hands over his face.

“Nothing to give away, mate.”

“He's very polite, you know? You know that, of course,” Ed said, leaning closer, his voice quieter. “Very private. Wouldn't tell me a thing about you for quite some time. Even when I tried to get him to spill, and I’m talking about lots of vodka and some serious tickling,” Ed laughed and Louis snorted, pulling a thread from the inner seam of his jeans, “he wouldn’t crack.”

“Wouldn’t admit there was something,” Ed paused and squinted, still smiling, “or someone, in the mix. Just this,” he fluttered his fingers in the air, “mysterious friend named Louis, who Harry spoke about as if he created the sun and moon and stars, and who I had a sneaking suspicion was that someone.”

“Someone who made him fall off of a sofa to answer a text because he was so excited to see a certain name pop up.” He tumbled his hands in a circle in front of his body. “I'm talking arse over elbows. Basically a flip off of a sofa with those big old legs flying in the air.”

Louis bit his top lip and huffed a laugh, shaking his head and looking to Niall, Ed's voice continuing near his ear.

“Someone who woke Harry up for work and it was so monumental to him, that someone would wake him up for work so early in the morning, that he made a batch of banana muffins with smiling suns drawn on the top. He called them Good, Good Morning Muffins, I believe, and the bakery sold out within minutes. Even got a blurb in the paper about it. Called them, 'cheerful, whimsical, and delicious on a dreary Tuesday morning.'”

 

_“You're up?” Harry murmured, swallowing dryly. He blinked at the ceiling. His brain tried to gauge how much sunlight was in the room, but failed miserably, the fuzziness of deep sleep still making his bones feel heavy. Louis hummed in reply, vibrations soothing on Harry's warm skin. Harry breathed in deeply through his nose, his arm reaching out to the side. “What time is it?”_

_“Ten after four.” Louis rubbed his palm up Harry's stomach. Harry squinted at the face of his wrist watch, Louis’ mouth kissing up his exposed upper ribs. “You've got time before work.”_

_Harry let his head tilt back and his mouth fall open, hot sucks slowly sinking below his navel. His hand dropped his watch on his bedside table, his arm remaining stretched to the side._

_“Louis?”_

_“Hmm?”_

_“It's...This is the fourth time,” Harry whispered, his voice breaking on the last word, the words so soft they didn't carry below the duvet. Louis suckled so tenderly on his head, Harry's eyes clenching tighter. He ran his hands through Louis' hair, sliding down to squeeze the tops of his shoulders. “You—” Harry cupped Louis’ cheek. “You're up earlier than me?”_

_“We're both kind of up, silly,” Louis said, voice sleep-raspy. “But, yeah.” He kissed his groin, nuzzling the hair at the base of his cock with his nose. He smiled up at Harry, his cheeks still wrinkled from sleeping on a pillowcase, the white sheets a crown over his head. “I wanted to give you a good, good morning.”_

 

Louis' throat bobbed, his lips pressing together and his foot jiggling under his bum.

“That’s…” Louis swallowed again, clearing his throat. “That’s great. About the write-up.”

“It is,” Ed said, sing-songing his words. “Lots of great things happening lately.”

Louis narrowed his eyes at Ed.

“How did this turn from embarrassing Harry stories to embarrassing Louis time?”

“I don’t mean to embarrass you, man, I’m just...Happy. But that's neither here nor there,” Ed said, cheery and quick. He squeezed Louis' shoulder and shook his body. He laughed and patted Louis' back firmly, Louis’ body swaying forward and backwards. “Loosen up, pal, this is supposed to be a party.”

“Where are those drinks?” Louis asked, his voice low, his jawline tight. He pulled his scarf away from his neck. “I think my scarf is slowly strangling me.”

“Aw, mate, don't be tense,” Ed said, smiling easily. He squeezed both of Louis' shoulders, turning to face him head-on. “It's only proper for me to give you a little bit of a grilling. My best mate's crazy for you. It's the normal thing for me to do, and Harry's never given me this opportunity. I've just got to run with it. You should have heard the shit I gave him when he told me you two made boyfriend. I think I said, ‘I told you so,’ in ten languages. Google Translate was a godsend.”

"Made boyfriend," Louis said, laughter in his voice. "Sounds like we won a trophy or something."

"Relationship promotion," Ed suggested. 

There was a slight commotion by the stage. Louis and Ed looked towards the noise. Harry was bent over a table with Claire and Niall, three Corona bottles spewing beer at him.

“Guess those were the drinks,” Louis said, his face relaxing to a more normal expression. 

He started to laugh, Ed snorting uncontrollably, both watching Claire attempt to use her rainbow striped scarf to clean up some spilled beer (with the scarf still around her neck).

…

“I had an amazing time tonight.”

Harry felt knuckles brush over the top of his hand. He fell into step with two legs striding up the steps next to him, their tempo lazy. His fingers curled towards Louis’ warmth, brushing the callouses at the top of his palm. Their fingers linked for a breath, swaying forward and backwards once. Louis squeezed his hand, both smiling down at the floor.

“I did, too,” Harry said, his hand sliding to Louis’ lower back. 

They reached his landing and he turned, pressing his own back against the wall to the right of the door, his arm still looped around Louis’ body. He pulled him closer, their eyes twinkling in the dim hallway light. 

“Thank you for a lovely dinner. And,” he angled his hips towards Louis, “for walking me home.”

Louis’ eyes dropped to Harry’s lips, wet from a slow dart of his tongue, before landing back on his face. 

“Anytime.”

Harry closed the gap between them, his lips just barely sucking on Louis’ mouth, their heads tilting in opposite directions. A hum vibrated from Louis to Harry, Harry’s arm tightening around Louis’ waist.

“G’night,” Louis said, voice breathy, his lips curving into a smile mere inches from Harry’s face. He cupped Harry’s cheeks, warm hands smoothing over the strong lines of his jaw. He pressed another soft, but lingering, kiss to Harry’s lips, Harry inhaling audibly through his nose. “I’ll text you when I get home.”

The throbbing waves of arousal running through Harry's body were nearly unbearable, but he managed to murmur, “You sure you don’t want to come in?” with his eyes shut. His hand moved lower, just a breath away from the meat of Louis’ arse. Harry’s eyes opened and his brows rose, his bottom lip snagged between his teeth. "A nightcap, maybe?”

“You have to work early and I have prep work for tomorrow,” Louis said, as if he was reading it off a script he’d memorized years ago. "A nightcap will lead to other things, you and I both know that." He smiled and kissed Harry’s pouting bottom lip. “And besides," he narrowed his eyes, "who says I put out after the second date?”

“Hmm, true,” Harry said, nodding seriously, though his eyes danced with laughter. "Not like we had sex in the car after our first date or anything. Or that I knew what your come tasted like before I knew your last name."

Louis clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth, shrugging one shoulder and arching a brow at the same time. He stroked Harry’s fringe, voice airy and light. 

“We couldn’t help it. Guardians of the Galaxy was such a good movie that we had limited snogging time in the actual theatre.”

They were together, officially so, but that didn’t stop Harry from declaring, ‘We’re going on a date today,’ one morning, drawing a sleepy-eyed smile from Louis’ spot tucked in the crook of his arm, the fluffy white duvet so high on their bodies that it covered Louis’ chin, sunlight streaming over his pale blue eyes.

Harry smiled, letting out a small giggle, burying the sound by pressing his face against Louis' neck. He kissed the skin just above Louis' jacket collar. His body felt so warm all over, the heat of Louis’ body drawing him into a closer embrace. 

"Seriously, though. Thank you for tonight. For planning it.” He took a slow breath in, Louis’ cool cologne still present even after hours spent wining and dining and chatting. Harry wondered if his teeth were purple from all the red wine they’d consumed. “That place was...Perfect. Delicious food. So...” They kissed again, the last of Harry’s words vibrating into Louis’ mouth. Louis kissed his jawline, Harry whispering, “So pretty inside."

Louis let their cheeks line up.

"I’m glad you liked it,” Louis said, running his hand down the curve of Harry’s lower back. “Everytime I walked past it I thought of you. Wanted to take you there."

Harry's eyes fell shut, his lips vibrating with a low hum against Louis' neck, masking the groaned noise by kissing him there.

"You're such a good boyfriend," Harry said on an exhale, face nuzzling deeper into the crook of Louis’ neck and shoulder. “Top-notch.”

Louis smiled and rubbed Harry's lower back, cradling the taller man in his arms. He ignored the stare from Harry and Niall's downstairs neighbor Miss Matilda, her bespectacled grey eyes peering up at them through the stairwell bannister. Though her name was Matilda, she had the aura of a Trunchbull. 

"It's easy when you're my boyfriend," Louis said, matter-of-fact but still soft. He scratched his fingernails through Harry’s hair, massaging the base of his hairline. "Now,” he pulled his face back, “time for bed, young man."

Harry pursed his lips and Louis leaned in, his body rising two inches higher. Harry’s eyes were shut, savouring the lingering taste of sweet red wine on his boyfriend’s lips, but if he opened his eyes, he was sure he would see Louis standing on tip-toe. The bottom of his spine tingled, his stomach fluttering, Louis holding the backs of his hips with a hand on either side.

When Louis shifted his head sideways to breathe, just a quick, half-second of air, and tightened his arms around Harry’s waist, Harry exhaled, “Paradise,” before kissing him again.

Louis lowered himself to flatfoot height, Harry chasing after him and pressing his plush lips to his mouth. Louis smiled into the kiss and pulled back, pecking Harry once before asking, “What did you say?”

“Oh, uh,” Harry smiled, his fringe falling in his eyes, “Paradise. By Coldplay. That’s on the L playlist.”

Louis’ eyes glowed, the left side of his mouth rising quicker than the right.

“Oh, really?”

“Mmhmm.”

Louis stared at him for a beat, gears creaking to life in his kiss-sodden brain, his lips twitching upwards.

“Bit of a memory with that song, hm?” Louis said, his voice going up at the end but his eyes knowing. “Big moment?”

“Yeah,” Harry whispered, eyes watching Louis’ mouth come closer. “Yeah, big...Big mo--”

Louis held Harry’s face and brushed their lips together, quickly pressing firmer, Harry’s head tilting back and his eyes falling shut. Louis’ legs boxed Harry in on either side of his thighs, letting his weight lean against Harry.

Though there was a significant height difference between them, Louis made Harry forget he was the taller one; the broader one. He was sure that Niall was puttering around in the flat on the other side of the wall they were leaning on, and he could hear his neighbour’s alarm clock going off downstairs, even though it was night time. 

But with Louis pressed against him, so hot and firm, there was no sense of height or time or location. 

They were simply there. Together. Connected.

“May I have another?” Louis whispered, saliva glistening on his bottom lip.

“Satellite. Guster. Satellite by Guster,” Harry blurted out, licking his lips. His nose rubbed along Louis’ jawline. “That’s on the list.”

“Hmm, not familiar with that one,” Louis said, thumbing Harry’s cheekbones. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s a great song.”

Louis kissed the corner of Harry’s lips, nuzzling their cheeks together.

“Another track?”

“Your Body is a Wonderland.”

Louis pulled his face back, his mouth agape.

“Oh, Harry,” he said, grave and low, shaking his head side to side. A smile worked its way onto his face, Harry’s grin slow but growing, his nose wrinkling to laugh softly. Louis arched his eyebrows. “Seriously?”

“Your body really is a wonderland,” Harry said, shrugging and rubbing both hands over Louis’ arse. “Candy lips and,” his heavy eyes dropped to Louis’ mouth, “bubblegum tongue and all.”

“I’ll give you candy lips,” Louis sputtered on a laugh, kissing Harry quickly, both smiling and falling back into a slow series of sucked kisses.

Louis lifted his hand to drag his fingers through the side of Harry’s lengthening hair, the motion drawing a breathy moan from Harry. Mid-kiss, Louis’ half slitted eyes caught sight of his watch, his mouth humming. He pulled back, Harry’s lips following him.

“S’getting late,” Louis rasped, Harry mumbling nonsensical noises while kissing Louis’ chin. Louis smiled and let his head tilt back, Harry’s hand warmly rubbing his bare lower back, his mouth pressing hot kisses into the flesh beneath his jawline. “One more song?”

“Maybe.”

Louis eyes sought Harry’s face, finding him to be smirking, his cheeks pinked and his gaze mischievous. 

“Say please,” Harry said, smirk widening to smile, his cheek dimpling.

Louis guffawed, his eyes wide. He lifted himself and pressed his lips to Harry’s, the searing suck of his mouth causing Harry to keen high in the back of his throat, his hands twitching on Louis’ bum. Harry squeezed his arse, kneading the round flesh with both palms, Louis biting on his bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. 

When he released his bottom lip, his hand tightened in the back of Harry’s hair, giving him a firm tug.

Louis murmured, “Please,” his voice husky and dark.

Harry said, “Partition,” at the same time, his head nudging backwards into Louis’ grip.

“I know that one,” Louis said, voice caressing each word like a song. “Lovely tune.”

“We’ve listened to it a few times.”

Louis gripped the front of Harry’s trousers, cupping his half-hardness and squeezing.

“Muscle memory and all that, hm?”

“And that’s all you’re getting from me tonight,” Harry said, smiling against Louis’ cheek. He pressed a kiss there. “You’ll have to figure out another way to get songs from me on future dates.”

Louis brightly quipped, “Oh, Ed already told me. Vodka and tickling, though I have a feeling I’m privy to some spots that Ed doesn’t usually go for.” Harry groaned a pained laugh, Louis petting his cock. “You’re done for, Styles. You’ll be singing these songs for me on date three.” 

…

Louis kicked his shoes off under his desk. He cracked his toes into the rug underneath, bending sideways towards his work bag. He pulled out earbuds from the front pocket, letting them sway in the air a moment, his eyebrows furrowed and his gaze focused on the messy bundle in his hands. He pulled at a knot, his fingers twisting the fine, rubbery wires until the knot gave.

He plugged the headphones into his laptop and opened it. Zayn's voice filtered into his office, a group of set designers walking past the open glass door with Zayn at the front, his hands gracefully gesturing in front of his face, thick black glasses sliding down his nose. 

Zayn glanced into Louis' office and winked as he passed, Louis smiling with his lips shut and jutting his chin upwards, his fingers entering his password with his eyes on Zayn.

Once Zayn's group passed, he put his earbuds in and focused his attention on the screen. He brought up YouTube and clicked to search.

"Guster," he murmured aloud, typing each letter. "Sat--"

The search bar prompted him for the entire title and he clicked, brushing his fingertips down the track pad. The first of around twenty-seven-thousand seemed good enough and he selected it, sitting back in his black leather desk chair. He stepped on his right foot under the desk, pushing his joined feet back and forth, his arms loosely crossed over his charcoal jumper.

The beginning of the song was simple enough; spacey sounding guitars and minor chords were right up Harry’s musical alley. A singer’s mellow voice started over the rhythmic guitar and simple drums. Louis’ eyes went sideways, focusing on the bottom left corner of his laptop screen.

Zayn walked up to Louis’ office door with an iPad in his hands.

"Hey, can you help me with the wall colour for the shoot tomorrow?” He swiped his index finger over the screen twice, clicking his back teeth together. “I can’t decide which will work better with the model’s suit.” He started walking towards his office. “Want me to get you tea? I need a latte or I’m going to pass out.”

He heard no reply from beside him. He walked backwards to his open door. He smiled confusedly at the sight of Louis staring at the corner of his office with a blank look on his face, his body slumped in his seat like a rag doll who had fallen into the chair. His eyes were warm, though, despite seeming unfocused and dazed.

Zayn gently knocked his knuckles on the glass door, but the sound did not rouse Louis. He walked closer, up the centre of the room, until he stood in front of Louis’ desk. 

He snapped his fingers in front of Louis’ face.

“Lou.”

Louis inhaled sharply, his eyes flying to Zayn, his hand clutched to his chest.

“Jesus, sorry, what?” Louis pulled his earbuds out, the wires tumbling down his shoulders. “What? What’s up?”

Zayn smirked and went to look at his laptop, Louis shut it. 

Zayn exhaled, “Ooh,” as if he was pained and waggled one finger in front of his body. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Dirty Skyping at work?” He gasped. “What would Simon say?”

“What? No, no,” Louis said, breathy and half-laughing, running his hand through the front of his hair. He shook his head. “No Skyping. Just music. Uh.” He blinked rapidly. “What’s up?”

…

“And you’re certain the cake will be fresh? I will not stand for old, crusty cake at my wedding. I simply won’t!”

Harry swallowed and took a calm breath in through his nose, his smile never faltering.

“Of course, Ms. Jones. All of my cakes and pastries are always guaranteed to be fresh the day of your event.” He placed his pen on top of his clipboard, placing both on top of the cafe table. “Now,” he crossed his right leg over his left, “have you decided which type of cake you’d like for each layer? You seemed to enjoy each of the tastings.”

The woman eyed the various slices of half eaten cake with the eyes of a vulture, colourful smears of frosting and cake crumbs littered over the round white plates. Her fiancee sat beside her in silence, a hollow greyness dampening his features.

“I think we’ll go with the coconut cake for layer one, red velvet for layer two, and Le Louis for layer three.”

Harry nodded and said, “Certainly,” as he noted her choices on his clipboard, checking the flavours off. He smiled at the couple, his pen paused. “Any other special requests? Dietary restrictions?”

“Oh, well, I’m semi-gluten-free,” she said, Harry’s smile twitching to remain on his face. Semi-gluten-free? This cake would be an adventure. “And his mum plus my entire bridal party aren’t eating sugars or fats or carbs right now.” She dropped her voice to a stage whisper and held one hand against the side of her mouth. “Mandatory diet.” She winked, Harry’s stomach stirring. “And my sister will simply refuse to eat anything that is white.” She wrinkled her nose. “The colour offends her energy. Red, as well. Red and white. So many additives and chemicals, you know?”

“It’s a shade,” her fiancee, Tom, said quietly, his face towards the ground.

“Excuse me?” she asked, her gaze still on Harry. She smiled, too cheerful for such a sharp tone of voice, and tilted her end, her pearl necklace rattling around her delicate neck. “What did you say?”

“I said it’s a shade, Veronica,” Tom said, glancing at Harry. “White. Right?”

Harry froze in his place across the table, the mix of anger and desperation pouring over his body from the soon-to-be married couple making his wavy hair go straight. 

“Well,” Harry said, swallowing. He was certain his hair was down to his shoulders at this point and silvery gray. “Yes, white, technically, is a shade," Vernoica's eyes flared, "but is also considered to be a colour, depending on whether you ask an artist or a scientist. So, technically you're both correct. As for your sister’s preference,” Harry added quickly, his voice smooth, “would she be willing to make an exception for a toasted coconut cake instead of pure coconut? The colour will be a bit warmer, not quite so bright.”

“And the red velvet?” Veronica’s chest huffed up and down, her face panicked. “What of the red velvet?”

Harry bit down a comment about how the bride herself selected a red velvet layer, knowing full well that red was included in red velvet. Or that they had an entire hour long consultation and not once were gluten-free or sugar-free or colour phobias mentioned.

Instead, he smiled and calmly said, “It could be more of a soft pink. I’ve done it before and it tastes exactly the same, with a more romantic shade. As for the sugar, well, there are options that would make the cake entirely sugar free. I can certainly devote one layer to being entirely sugar free, or even make a small side cake for that, but, unless there are some serious health restrictions,” he winked, smiling with his lips shut, “how about you let your bridesmaids have a bit of a break after the ceremony, hm?”

Veronica’s fury dimmed a touch, her lips relaxing from her extreme lemon-mouth.

“I suppose that will do.”

“Excellent,” Harry said, standing, Tom letting out a sigh of relief. “I’ll start sketching and will email you a sample design by the end of the work week.”

“It had better be in my email box by Friday, as I simply do not have the time to chase after you for designs. Can’t you see I’m incredibly busy?”

Harry nodded and offered her his arm, helping her stand. She teetered on her white platform stilettos, her white Chanel bag dangling from the crook of her elbow.

“Yes, I completely understand. Sketches will be to you by Friday.”

Harry offered Tom a secret smile, Tom rolling his eyes and shoving a forkful of coconut cake into his mouth.

“And you noted that our colour scheme is orange, rose, and green, yes? With violet accents?” She peeked at his clipboard. “How can you even read your own handwriting? Chicken scratch, at best.”

“Yes, miss, blood orange and forest green with dusty pink roses as your flower of choice and violet daisy crowns for you and your bridal party,” Harry said, guiding her towards the counter. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Tom shoving red velvet into his mouth, Harry biting his lips not to laugh. “Your centrepieces sound lovely, as does your menu.”

“And you’re sure that you can’t just be the chef for the event?” she asked, suddenly sweet. She batted her eyes at him, her palms flat on his chest. “We’re such big fans.”

At that, Harry let out a small laugh, his face blown open with shock. Helena came through the double doors with a pad in her hand.

“Yes, I’m certain. I’m flattered, thank you, but I’m not the right type of chef for that. I know the crew over at your venue and they’re excellent. You’ll be very happy with what they have to offer.”

“We have our tasting there tomorrow,” Veronica said. Harry made a mental note to text a few chef friends tomorrow evening, offering them his condolences. “They require such an enormous deposit, the nerve!”

“Yes, well, we only take a deposit for security purposes,” Helena said gently, standing beside the register. “Cash, credit, or cheque?”

Veronica’s slender shoulders hunched forward, a laugh of disbelief puffing out of her perfectly made up lips, her shiny, rust coloured hair swaying on her shoulders.

“Excuse me? You said the price of the cake will fluctuate, since it is customized specifically for us. How on earth can you take a deposit?”

Harry released her arm and stood by the register, able to hear Helena muttering, “Bloody brides,” under her breath.

“It’s standard for a bakery to take a deposit for wedding cakes,” Harry said, keeping his voice even. “We have a very busy calendar and to reserve your spot, we require a fifty-percent deposit on our base rate, which I mentioned in my confirmation email.”

She quirked her hip at Harry and said, “Tom, are you hearing this?”

Tom came up behind her and handed over a credit card, mouthing, “Apologies,” to Harry and Helena.

Helena took the card and began to fill out their ticket, Harry exhaling slowly through his nostrils. The bell above the door tinkled. Harry walked sideways to sneak behind the counter, reaching underneath for an apron.

“May I help you?” he asked, draping it over his head.

A reedy voice asked, “Are you, erm, let’s see here...Are you Harry Styles?” 

Harry’s head popped out from the apron. His eyes landed on what the man was carrying. The base of his spine sparked, warmth shooting up his back and spreading between his vertebrae, bleeding out to wrap around his ribcage and hug him from the inside. Sweat broke out on the back of his neck.

“Yes, I am,” he said, voice wobbling. He cleared his throat, Helena snickering as she ran the card through the register. “How can I help you?”

“These are for you, of course,” the man said, chuckling. His laugh was throaty and full, completely surprising coming from someone slender enough to hide in the cake display case. He placed the vase on top of the bakery counter, Veronica and Tom’s amused eyes glued to Harry’s bright pink face. “Sign, please?”

“Right, yes,” Harry said, pulling a pen from a cup beneath the register. He scribbled his name on the man’s delivery form and nodded. “Thanks so much.”

“Enjoy.” He went to turn away, then paused and added, “You know, they say red tulips symbolize perfect, undying love.” The man winked. “Just a little florist trivia for you.”

“Yes, right, thank you for that interesting fact,” Harry blurted out, dropping his hand from the tulip he was stroking with the pads of his fingers. His thin white v-neck was starting to stick to the skin under his arms and in the centre of his back. “Thank you very much.”

“Lover of mine,” Veronica said, her voice quiet. “Maybe we should go more simple.” She wrapped her arms around Tom’s neck, nuzzling their noses together. “Maybe we don’t have to have ice sculptures in each room of the venue. It should be a day of romance, you know? We don’t need an ice dolphin in the loo.”

“That sounds wonderful, love,” Tom said, patting her cheek. He smiled at Harry and pocketed his wallet. “See you in a few months.”

Harry and Helena said, “Goodbye,” at the same time, Harry waving with his right hand. Veronica’s heels clicked on the tile floor before the door opened, the sounds of the city rushing into the bakery all at once. It shut behind the happy couple, the bell tinkling into the new silence.

“These are beautiful, my love,” Helena said, stroking the flowers in passing. “Louis is a very smart boy.” She went towards the cafe table in the corner of the bakery and retrieved Harry’s clipboard. “That couple was truly mad, weren’t they? Though I suppose a lot of them are, these days.” She read over his form, her lips blowing air through to make a farting sound. “Mon Dieu, could they have picked a more ridiculous combination of layers? And these restrictions! Why not have a wedding cake made of salad?”

She looked at the register and saw Harry smiling dopily at a small white card, his body leaning over the counter to let the tulips barely brush his cheek. 

“I wonder what type of cake I’d pick, now that it’s been so many years since Henri and I were married,” Helena said, slowly walking back to the register, her eyes peeking at Harry. “Something simple maybe?”

“Mmm, yeah. I’d go simple,” Harry murmured. His voice was low and heady, as if he was talking in his sleep, not standing upright and conscious. He thumbed the sharp corner of the card. “Simple cake, amazing food, good music, and family and friends.”

“No ice sculptures?”

“No,” he chuckled quietly, smiling at the card dwarfed by his hands. Softer, he added, “Not our style,” brushing the back of his hand against a tulip.

“Red tulips, maybe?” Helena asked, holding back a giggle, the clipboard over her lips.

“Maybe. Maybe white peonies.” Harry took an easy sniff of the bouquet, letting the card flutter to the counter. “They’re lovely, too.”

Helena slyly picked up the card, Harry too distracted by his flowers to notice. She read over the typed message:

**sugar plum,**

**always the first star that i find.**

**peaches xx**

And scrunched her face. She turned the card over, huffing when there were no other lines of text.

“What does this jibberish mean? Who is this even from?” She looked at Harry and her high bun wobbled, her glasses at the very end of her nose and flour on her left cheekbone. “What is a Peaches?”

“I understand it,” Harry said, his voice raspy, holding his hand out. She placed the card in his hand, Harry’s long fingers curling around it. He whispered under his breath, “It’s like he knew I was stressed.” He thumbed the card with delicate pressure, his eyes glowing. “Like magic.” 

He traced over the text, an uncontrollable smile stretching across his face. He bit his bottom lip, ribbing it between his teeth. A five course menu on crisp white cardstock formed in his head along with a simple two tier white round wedding cake with tiny pearls of frosting around the edge, the cake sat on a table surrounded by flowers. 

“White peonies might be for the best, with red tulips for the lapels,” he said to himself.

Helena sidled up next to him and flipped to the next blank form on Harry’s clipboard, her pen poised.

“Are we planning a wedding?” she asked as she scrawled _Harry Styles_ on the line reserved for the groom’s name. 

Harry blinked and looked at her, the card pressed against his stomach. He shook his head, smiling down at the ground. He shied away from her fingers pinching his cheek, his face warm. He backed away from the counter, his hands gripping his apron pocket.

“I should,” he thumbed over his shoulder and exhaled a laugh, “get back to prepping. I’ve got a lot to do.”

“But we didn’t finish your form,” Helena said, waving the clipboard at him.

"Ha ha," he deadpanned, the corners of his mouth twitching to resist a smile. 

He pushed the right side door open, but paused. He turned back to the counter and walked quickly to his flowers, picking up the vase with both hands and avoiding Helena’s smirking face. 

“I’m just going to give them fresh water."

He hid his smile behind the bright red tulip tops and pushed through the doors.

Helena called, “Should I put _Peaches_ as the bride’s name?” just before the doors swung shut, snickering at Harry’s answering groan.

…

Harry opened the door to Louis’ flat.

“Lou?” he called, locking it behind himself. He ran both hands through his hair. “You need any help?”

“Out in a second,” Louis’ voice came from his side of the flat. “Promise. I have big plans for date four.” Harry smiled, Louis repeating, "Big plans," and lengthening his vowels. 

He checked his reflection in the black television screen, smoothing his chambray shirt collar down. He could hear quiet commotion from Louis’ bedroom; a closet door closing, a light switch flickering off. He leaned his bum against the corner of the sofa, crossing his ankles. 

His eyes were drawn to something hanging on the front of the stainless steel refrigerator, the thin sheet of paper fastened by two pink cupcake shaped magnets. He stepped closer and smiled, his brows furrowed.

“Hey, man,” Liam said in passing, a black duffel bag looped over his shoulder. He was dressed in all black to match, the smell of mint fresh in the air. “Alright?”

“Yeah, great, you? Off to work?” Harry asked, standing in front of the fridge with his hands on his hips. 

“Ugh, unfortunately,” Liam grunted in reply, opening the fridge to grab a water bottle. "Have a couple of house calls."

Harry tapped his fingers over the small blurb about his muffins. 

“Huh.”

“Oh, yeah, congrats on that,” Liam said cheerily. He patted Harry’s shoulder, pocketing his mobile. “Lou bought, like, a million copies of the paper with your article in it. Ordered them special from the newspaper.”

“It was just a few lines,” Harry said, sheepish but with a buzzing, giggly feeling settled in his stomach. “That was nice of him.”

Liam bopped Harry’s nose with the chilly end of his water bottle.

“Think he even sent a copy to his mum." He winked. "Proper smitten, he is.”

“Shut. Up,” Louis' loud, dull voice came from the other end of the flat, Liam and Harry exchanging smiles.

…

Louis’ arse moved first, his hips initiating the movement to flip his body from laying on his right side to laying on his left side. He turned over in one fluid motion, his hand flopping on the bed. He nudged closer to Harry’s warmth, nestling his face against his outer bicep. Louis’ body let out a soft sigh, his back huffing with the motion.

Harry’s snores maintained their same slow, easy rhythm for almost half a minute before his arm lifted and curled around Louis’ shoulders, pulling them face to face, their eyes shut and brains turned off. He rubbed his face into Louis’ hair, both of Louis’ arms wrapping around his body, Harry’s feet popping out the bottom of the duvet.

Louis kicked the duvet off of himself in Harry’s direction, then flattened his feet on top of Harry’s ankles, pushing the duvet downwards with his toes.

…

“I’ve never been so appreciative of sixty-nining in my life.”

Harry’s laugh echoed around the bedroom, his stomach heaving to breathe. He turned his head to the left, studying the bottoms of Louis’ feet. He dragged his fingertips in a light circle around Louis’ ankle bone, watching the sole of the foot attached to that ankle wrinkle ever so slightly.

“How much time do you have left?”

Louis let out a long sigh.

“Not enough,” he murmured, stretching his arms over his head. “Bloody teleconferences.” He palmed Harry’s bedside table. He picked up Harry’s watch and held it in front of his face. “Erm, about fifteen--Fif--Ha-ahah-rry--” 

His eyes clenched shut and his head tilted back. Soft, rapid giggles bubbled out of his mouth. 

“Oh-oh-oh my God,” Louis laughed, arching his lower back, “my feet are too ticklish for you to do-ooh-ooh,” he giggled and flattened his left foot to the bed, bending his knee, “that and expect me to tell time.”

Harry’s fingertips spidered away from his sole and back to his ankle. Louis rubbed his feet together, his legs shivering. He looked down the bed and found Harry to be grinning at him, clearly amused.

“Fifteen minutes, let’s see,” Harry drawled, walking his fingers up Louis’ shin. He dragged his index finger over a pale pink scar running horizontally beneath Louis’ kneecap, a scar he had learned was from a footie injury when Louis was fourteen. “Whatever we do, we need to leave at least five minutes for kisses and five minutes to shower.”

The skin beside Louis’ eyes crinkled, his smile warming Harry’s face.

“Very economical of you. I like it.”

“I could…” Harry gasped, his eyes lighting up. “Give you a neck rub? You’ve spent so much time on the computer today.”

Louis smiled and rubbed his foot along the back of Harry’s thigh. 

“You just orally pleasured me as if this is the last day before the apocalypse. You don’t have to rub my neck.” He dropped Harry’s watch on the bed, Harry smiling with his chin on Louis’ kneecap. “Thank you, though. Very kind.”

Harry felt his way higher, drawing light circles in the course hair that thinned out the closer he got to Louis’ inner thigh.

“Are you hungry?”

Louis shook his head, sliding his hands underneath his pillow.

“Nah, thanks. We got free sushi for lunch at work and Simon mentioned getting French food catered for dinner.”

“Lucky boy.” 

Harry’s fingers bumped into the head of Louis’ cock. Louis’ eyes slid down to him, watching Harry stroke his groin, long fingers walking around the base of his cock. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Louis asked, smirking. 

Harry peered up at him, his eyes bright but squinted half shut. He opened his mouth, then shut it. He opened his mouth again, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything,” Louis said, sitting up on his elbows. The muscles of his lower stomach crinkled, Harry pressing his lips just below his navel. “What’s up?”

“Why are you cut?”

Louis blinked down at the top of Harry’s head.

“I’m sorry, Is that,” Harry brought his eyes to Louis’ face, “too personal?” He pressed his palms into the mattress, his torso bending up as if he was in yoga. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.”

“No, not offensive at all,” Louis said, his voice distant. He snagged a lock of Harry’s hair, holding him in place. “It’s totally fine.” Louis gently tugged his hair, Harry lowering himself, his arm wrapped over the tops of Louis’ thighs. “And it’s also quite boring.”

“How so?”

“My biological father’s from Doncaster, but his father was American, so my dad was circumcised. He told my mum he had a medical condition that ran in his family,” Louis said, rolling onto his side. His penis rolled along with him, landing with a soft thud on the mattress. He propped his head up with his hand, his arm a triangle against the bed. “I think it was something to do with having a tight foreskin or something? Something about it causing swelling,” his eyes shimmered, “and not the fun kind of swelling we enjoy. I can’t remember the term now.”

Harry reached out, his hand gently cradling Louis’ penis.

“So they just did it?” He thumbed over his head, lightly dragging his thumb down the shaft of Louis’ cock. His skin was tight and smooth, Harry’s eyes straying to his own cock. “I’ve been with men before who were cut, but I think you’re the only English guy I’ve ever...Uh…That was...” He looked back to Louis’ face. “You know.”

“Aren’t I just a special snowflake in the blizzard of your sexual history?”

Harry grinned, ducking his head down. His fringe flopped over his forehead, the back of his hair curling beneath his ears.

“I just meant that it’s kind of strange in these parts--” Louis could not see Harry’s face, but could sense that Harry’s eyes bulged at his own statement, his mouth gulping for air before amending himself. “I mean,” he blinked rapidly, “not strange, like, bad.” His pink lips were perfectly round, his eyes just as innocent. “Your penis is so beautiful to me.”

“Your penis is so beautiful to me,” Louis repeated, on the brink of laughter. He sighed. “How did I get so lucky?”

Harry’s low voice sang the words, “Your penis is so beautiful to me,” along to the melody of the song You Are So Beautiful to Me. That made them both laugh, Louis squirming lower on the mattress. Their toes tangled at the very end of the bed, Harry’s arm resting over Louis’ hips.

“I think my mum, being serious about medical stuff, insisted on it just incase it became an issue later in my life,” Louis said, bending his leg. He trapped Harry to the bed with his thigh. “NHS wouldn’t cover it, said my father didn’t have the medical documentation to prove it was actually an issue, but my mum insisted and paid for it herself.”

“Wow.”

“Yup.” Louis looked down at his penis, gripping himself. “I think that’s why I was more into guys who were cut, just because it was familiar to me. I knew what to do with it. And I guess I kind of got off when guys were more into it because I was cut. Because I was different.”

He and Harry watched him thumb around his head, tugging gently. Louis’ voice grew softer, his fingers more delicate. 

“Later, my mum told me that she was pretty sure my father had lied.” Harry squinted at Louis’ penis, confusion clouding his face. “He wanted me to be cut incase I...” Louis stroked himself once, making air quotes with his other hand. “‘Ended up with a fussy bitch,’ were his words, I believe. Clearly a stand up guy. He and my mum were so young, I'm guessing he probably had no fucking clue what was going on and just made a weird decision.” 

Harry’s mouth dropped as wide open as physically possible, his eyes snapping to Louis’ face. Louis smiled, calm and lazy. 

“And that was that.” He dropped his penis and waggled his fingers at it. “Goodbye, foreskin. I never even knew you.” He looked to Harry’s groin and grinned at him. He palmed his cock. “But now I have yours to play with,” he eased Harry’s foreskin over his head, “so it all worked out.”

“Holy fucking shit,” Harry practically growled, his hand clenching at his side. 

Louis’ grin faded, his fingers curling over Harry’s fist.

“Jesus, what’s the matter?”

“How...How…” His head shook involuntarily, eyes more furious than Louis had ever seen them. “How could a father purposely do that to their child? To his own son?” His voice grew deeper. “How can someone be so selfish and subject an innocent baby to--When there could be complications and pain and just--I can’t even,” his mouth stuck open, his jaw trembling, “I can’t even fathom that. How did your mum not rip his nads off?”

Louis barked out a laugh.

“And you wondered why we don’t have a relationship with him. The only downside is that my mum has always been really paranoid that I feel slighted or hurt by what happened, which is not true at all. This is how my cock looks, has always looked, and there’s nothing that can be done about it, so why stress?”

“Lou,” Harry said, cupping his face. “I’m...I’m just…” His eyes fell to Louis’ middle, his lips kissing his belly button. He kissed lower, down the soft hair leading to his groin, nosing the base of his cock. “I’m...I’m serious. Your penis is beautiful.” He started to kiss up Louis’ cock, reverently kissing his head. “It’s lovely; couldn’t be better.”

“Very few penises, penii?, are beautiful. They’re fun and functional, but rarely are they attractive to the eye.” He ran his fingers through Harry’s hair, smiling softly. “Though I will say,” his gaze dropped lower, “I am quite impressed with yours. And I’m an artist.” His smile shifted to a mischievous smirk. “I have a good eye.”

“Wow, Lou.” Harry smiled, touched, and pressed his palm over his heart. His eyes were as cuddly looking as a teddy bear. “The other day you share with me that the sight of my armpits gets you hard--”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Louis laughed loudly over him, face flushing bright pink. “I didn’t say it like that!”

“--And now I have an artistically appealing penis?” Harry said, voice full of awe, his smile uncontrollable. Louis snorted and pulled his hair. “Our pillow talk could be set to music, it’s so beautiful.”

Louis giggled and guided Harry’s face higher, Harry biting on his left nipple. Louis’ chest pressed up against his sucking lips, Harry mouthing up his neck. Harry brought himself even with Louis’ face, leaning in with pursed lips.

“Let’s not pretend,” Louis whispered, pulling slightly back, Harry exhaling a confused grunt, “that when I paid you that little compliment," their eyes locked, "you didn’t come immediately. Or, that you didn’t go," he started to pump his hips, deepening his voice and dramatically panting, "‘Ungh, Lou, fuck yeah, baby.'" Louis' arms stretched upwards to grip the headboard. “And tell me you felt the same way.”

“I am a cannibal, after all,” Harry murmured, unfazed by Louis’ impression. He smiled and leaned in, their lips pressing together. His lips brushed Louis’ to add, “Would put my mouth on every inch of you.” He kissed him firmly. “ _Have_ put my mouth on every inch of you.”

Louis let his tongue tease into Harry’s open mouth. Harry’s hands flattened on his bottom ribs, sliding all the way up his sides, palms grazing over his underarms.

“I’m gonna get worked up again,” Louis whispered weakly, body shivering. Harry’s hot breaths panted against his neck, the touch of light fingertips on his biceps sending Louis’ body into another round of shivers. “I--I’ve gotta go back to work.”

Harry lifted his lips from a darkened spot on Louis’ neck.

“I’ll drive you to the office.”

“No,” Louis protested, shaking his head on his pillow. “Too much of a hassle. You have a--” He let out a sigh, his eyes fluttering shut and his head lolling on his pillow. “A good...Mmm, so good,” he whispered, Harry sucking a bite to his right nipple, “I mean...A good parking spot right now. Don’t--Ah!” Sharp teeth bit into the flesh beside his nipple, a hot tongue lathing the stinging bite. His voice became even breathier. “Don’t lose it.”

“It’ll give us an extra twenty minutes.”

Louis was silent, his mouth pursed open but no sound coming out. He felt Harry’s low laugh vibrating against his skin. Harry leaned over the bed, Louis opening his eyes.

“What are you doing?”

Harry came back with a skinny black tie hanging from his right hand. He looked both hungry and satisfied, Louis’ stomach shaking from inside. He dragged the end of the tie over Louis’ navel, straddling his upper thighs. 

“You gonna put this back on for work?” he asked, eyes running up Louis’ torso.

“Was planning on it.”

Harry smiled and bent over. He looped it through a gap in his headboard, threading it underneath Louis’ wrists. He pulled it upwards, knotting it on the centre of his inner wrists, the pull of fabric drawing a shocked gasp from Louis.

“I’m gonna borrow it for around,” Harry smiled wider, “ten minutes. Don’t worry.” He held Louis’ bound wrists to the mattress with his right hand, his left fingertips starting to slowly drag from his inner wrist down to the bend of his elbow. “I’ll get you to work on time.”

…

Louis sat down next to Zayn, his body melting bonelessly into his leather seat. Zayn glanced at him over his black rimmed glasses.

“What the hell happened to you?”

Louis’ eyes floated in Zayn’s direction, his smile relaxed.

“Hm?”

“Your tie looks like it went through a meat grinder and your hair’s all fucked up. And...”  
Zayn reached out, ruffling the front of his hair. “Wet?” He wiped his hand on Louis’ shoulder, palm first, then the top of his hand. “Did you go home and shower?”

Louis smoothed his fingers over his tie.

“Harry,” he said slowly, as if he was speaking a foreign language.

“Harry? Harry wha--” Zayn’s face brightened, his mouth agape. “Wait, did you two…” He trailed off, his eyes growing wider, his mental date book flipping from page to page on his internal calendar. “Every time we have to come back here for late-night shit, are you all dopey because you go and get some between meetings?”

“Maybe,” Louis said, breaking into a giggle on the second syllable of his word. “You and Li should give it a whirl.” He started to giggle properly, Zayn shaking his head but smiling at him. “I highly recommend it. Really gets the creative juices flowing.”

...

Harry clenched his hands in his duvet, his forehead pressed into the bed and his mouth stuttering open. He turned his head to the side and gasped, sucking air in, his chest pounding against the edge of the bed. His knees were starting to ache, but then a tongue would lick hotly behind his ear, or a fleshy palm would squeeze his cock so tightly, so perfectly, that his eyes would roll back in his head, all sensors set to pleasure despite a bit of rug burn.

“Oh, God,” he whimpered, his voice breaking into a long moan. “Love it like this--Ah! You’re so fucking--So fucking hard.”

Strong hands pressed up the backs of his shoulders, smoothing up the sweaty skin of his outer biceps, hot kisses sucked hard enough to mark the back of his neck. Louis’ face nudged between Harry’s cheek and the mattress, firm lips pressed against his own, Louis’ nostrils panting breaths just as fast, just as frantic. 

Harry could feel Louis’ inner thighs rubbing against his hips, sweat and downy hair mixing to create another type of burn, Louis’ hips slapping against his arse loudly. His arse felt irritated, reddened, his whole body on edge. Every sensation, combined with the ache of Louis hitting his prostate with each hard thrust, made Harry’s blood run faster, hotter, sweat pouring down the back of his neck only to be scooped up by Louis’ biting mouth. 

Louis laced their fingers together, his palms curled around the knuckles of Harry’s hands, and fucked him harder, Harry’s body bucking backwards against him, loud grunts exhaled with each hump.

Harry’s eyes shot open, his face wedging against the bed to wail, “Louis! Fuck!” 

He felt Louis’ hips start to stutter, faster bursts of thrusts leading to Louis clutching his fists, fingernails digging into Harry’s palms. Louis made a pained, high pitched sound, Harry squeezing around his cock as Louis spilled inside of him. Louis’ thrusts grew deeper, slower, his moan lower in Harry’s ear. 

Louis’ left hand squeezed both of Harry’s hands, right hand looping around Harry’s stomach. He jerked him fast, mumbling, “So fucking sexy, Harry, c’mon, darling,” in a stream of jibberish in his ear, his own breath still unsteady. “Letting me bend you over wherever I please. First the kitchen, now the bedroom floor.” 

Harry’s body tremored, his forehead digging into the bed and his eyes wrenched shut.

He gasped out, “Oh, God--”

“Couldn’t even wait ‘til we got on the bed. Just let me have my way with you, such a generous boy,” Louis continued, squeezing his balls hard. “With this hot little body of yours.” He panted for a moment, then rasped, “Come for me, darling. Make a fucking perfect mess all over my hand,” he thumbed behind Harry’s balls, catching in the stickiness dripping between his cheeks, “and I’ll lick us clean.”

Harry spasmed around his cock, Louis smiling against the side of his neck and moving his hand back to his cock, stroking him slow and long.

“There we are,” Louis whispered, kissing behind Harry’s ear.

Harry’s body rhythmically pushed against Louis’ hand and the bed, quiet, low whimpers muffled by the bunched duvet. The balls of his feel caught on the rug beneath them, pushing it halfway out from under his bed.

Louis kissed over the back of his neck, rubbing his hands up Harry’s back. He palmed over his shoulders and along his arms, kissing from shoulder blade to shoulder blade.

“So lovely,” he whispered, pushing the back of his drenched hair up. He kissed the base of Harry’s hairline, scratching his scalp, Harry moaning low in his throat. “You alright?”

“Fucking fuck,” Harry shuddered, arse squeezing Louis tight enough for make Louis’ eyes flutter shut. “Christ.” Harry’s body went slack against the bed. His stomach ballooned outward to breathe quickly, sweat stinging his eyes. He looked over his shoulder, his cheek creased from the duvet and his expression dazed. He smiled and murmured, “You’re like the Shakespeare of dirty talk.”

Harry flopped his head back on the bed, giggling to himself. Louis pulled out, giggling along with Harry. The slurping sound made Harry laugh louder, his arms folded under his sweaty face. 

“I never really thought of myself as particularly good at it,” Louis admitted, sitting back on his heels. He wiped his fingers on the sides of his thighs. “You’ve got the voice for it, not me.”

“No, no, no,” Harry drawled slowly, shaking his head. “It’s the way you use your voice. How you can fluctuate pitch from word to word. Something about your accent. The wideness of your vowels on certain words.” His voice grew sleepy, his pacing even slower. “I could listen to to you talk for hours. Read me the phone book and I’d be content.”

Louis smiled wider as he cleaned himself up to the sound of Harry rambling, his voice like molasses lazily filling each corner of the room. He dropped his towel and kissed the middle of Harry’s back, dragging his nose along the arched curve of his lower back. He took a deep breath in, opening his mouth sideways just above his tailbone, mouthing the damp hair that barely dusted Harry’s skin. 

Harry’s eyes widened, his laughter softening. He stared at his closed bedroom door as Louis’ mouth licked and sucked lower, rough buds of his tongue lingering on especially sensitive bumps of his spine until he reached his arse, tongue moving lower without hesitation.

“Louis,” Harry gasped, his eyes straining to remain open. “You--”

Louis started to suck on his dripping entrance and Harry’s eyes clenched shut, his hands digging into the bed, his right leg shooting out straight. His body, so sensitive and raw, heated immediately, trembles racking over every inch of him.

Louis’ tongue licked into him while he was still loosened, slurping and sucking for each lick. Both of Louis’ hands went to his arse cheeks, thumbs pulling him open wider, his fingertips digging into the plump flesh of his arse, sweat dripping down Harry’s muscled back and trickling over Louis’ hands.

Louis pulled his tongue away, Harry whimpering and rolling his arse backwards. 

“I keep my promises, don’t I?” Louis said, air whispering over Harry’s wet skin.

“Y-Yeah,” Harry said, his voice cracking. “Yeah, you,” his voice increased to a shout, “do!” his body squirming against the bed.

Louis’ tongue moved to Harry’s inner thighs, his face wedged between them to lay flattened, slow, careful licks up to the curves of his arse, lapping up every sticky drop. He let the tip of his tongue barely brush Harry’s sore opening after each lap, flickering light enough to draw high pitched, sighs from him.

Louis fingers brushed the head of his cock, thumbing a drip of pre-come over his head.

“What have we here, hmm?” he asked, letting his voice swoop from high to low. “Hard again so soon?”

“Yes, I--”

“Are you enjoying yourself, then?”

“Yes! I-I’m--I think I’m gonna come again,” Harry said, his voice wrecked and his eyes dazed. Two of Louis’ slick fingers pressed into him, Harry’s back straightening and his upper body lifting off the bed with his mouth wide in shock. “Oh, fuck, right there--right there--right--”

His voice choked off on a sob, Louis innocently whispering, “Yeah?” against his arse. “You gonna sing for me now?”

Louis licked around his fingers, pressing his tongue in between them and letting his fingertips vibrate.

Harry’s throat opened to deeply wail at the top of his lungs, pushing back towards Louis’ mouth, his hands slapping the bed and gripping the blankets. Louis pressed his face hard between his cheeks and Harry’s voice broke, growing in volume, his hamstrings tight and his thighs trembling around Louis’ face.

Louis watched Harry’s cock spurt against his mattress, come dripping down from his angry red head to the bedframe. He smiled, licking his lips and pushing his fingers harder.

“Louis,” Harry moaned quietly, a final spurt of come dripping out of his slit. Harry’s head lolled back, his chest falling first onto the bed. Harry’s cheek bounced on the mattress, a simple, “Oh,” all he could exhale.

Louis thumbed the head of his cock, Harry hissing through the back of his teeth.

“Y’alright, Sugar Plum?” Louis whispered, sucking his thumb into his mouth. He kissed Harry’s right arse cheek, then his left, redness blooming at about his hip height. “So sweet, beautiful.” He rubbed his lower back. He let his fingertips dance over the reddened skin, kissing the pale, tender flesh beside it. “Just so sweet.”

Harry’s eyes moved beneath his closed lids.

“Date five,” Harry’s voice crackled. He attempted to shake his head while panting wildly, the sheet sticking to his cheek. Louis watched his ribs press out from his sides for three fast breaths. “Date five.”

Louis grinned and kissed the back of his neck. He wrapped his arms around Harry’s torso, rubbing his chest. He said, “You have good taste in art museums,” and nuzzled his nose behind his ear.

Harry let out a peel of high laughter. He dragged his torso off the bed and moved his knees together, Louis sitting back on his heels. Harry rolled over and sat on his arse on the floor, his legs spread wide and straight on the floor. He propped his hands behind his head, his ribs still puffing outwards to breathe, his underarms shining with sweat. 

Louis dragged two fingers down the centre of Harry’s chest, tracing the bumps of his stomach until he reached his navel. His torso was flushed and dappled with sweat, his skin wrinkled by sheets, his body hair darkened.

“Aren’t you a sight,” Louis sighed out, his eyes coy and his voice playful. 

He traced a drop of sweat dripping over Harry’s right ribs. His eyes flickered down to follow the path, sweat pooling in Harry’s navel, come shimmering in the dark hair of his groin. 

Louis lowered his face, pressing his mouth to the course, sharply-scented hair. Harry moaned and let his head drop back, his abs clenching. He kissed his hip bone, eyes glancing up to Harry’s face.

“Sensitive?”

“Perfect,” Harry drawled. He bent his legs, his feet flat on the floor, his knees bobbing in to nudge Louis. His biceps bulged, his fingers itching the back of his hair. A smile broke through the fog of bliss numbing his features. “Can we go to a museum every day?” 

Louis laughed, rubbing his palms over to Harry’s abs, tracing the outer edges. He crawled closer, spreading his legs to lay them on top of Harry’s thighs. He bent his knees, his feet almost touching around Harry’s back from their spot on the floor. He leaned forward, their foreheads pressing together, their eyes shut. 

The smell of the room was heavy with sex, their bodies still sweating, the closed window fogged with humidity. 

Harry’s hands curved around Louis’ knees, smoothing to mid-thigh. He tilted his head sideways and lined their lips up, his face coming closer. 

“Harry,” Louis said, pulling his head back, Harry’s lips just missing his mouth. Louis wiped the back of his hand over his lips. “No, don't, I’m…” He smiled with his mouth shut, widening his eyes. “You know.”

“I don’t care,” Harry replied, his voice lilting, softly pressing their lips together. Louis’ eyes were round and open, though his lips moved along with Harry’s kiss. “I like you dirty,” he whispered, their lips joining for a longer suck. His tongue slid along the seam of Louis’ closed lips, coaxing his mouth open wider. Harry cradled his lower back with one hand, his other hand flat on Louis’ jawline. “And I like you clean.” 

Louis’ eyelashes shuddered, shadows dancing on the very tips of his cheekbones.

“I’m extra dirty right now.” 

Harry tightened his arm, Louis’ body sliding closer. 

“Even better,” Harry said, his voice honeyed and low. “Sweet and sour. My sweet, lovely Peaches.”

He tenderly sucked on Louis’ lips, Louis’ nostrils flaring, his eyes falling shut. Louis looped both arms around Harry’s neck, pursing his lips for a firmer kiss. His fingers twitched in Harry’s hair, Harry humming through his nose and hugging him to his body.

Louis smiled and turned his face away, rubbing his nose along Harry’s jawline.

“How about a song?”

“Hmm,” Harry hummed low in his throat, his hand squeezing the back of Louis’ hip. “Closer.”

Louis looked down at their bodies and inched himself upwards, legs fully straddling Harry’s hips and their groins flush, cocks nestled side by side. He glanced at Harry, his eyes curious.

“Like this?”

“No, that’s--” Harry laughed and gently bunked his forehead against Louis’ cheekbone. “That’s the song.” Their lips met, quick and soft. “Closer.”

“By Nine Inch Nails?”

Harry’s eyebrows arched.

“No, Closer by Tegan and Sara, though now I feel like I should add the Nine Inch Nails song to the list.”

Louis smiled, his eyes curving and his nose crinkling. He shrugged, his arms still looped over Harry’s shoulders.

“I did sort of just fuck you like an animal.”

Harry’s jaw dropped, Louis cackling.

“Filthy, absolutely filthy,” Harry said, clicking his tongue. He spanked Louis’ arse and Louis barked out a laugh, pressing his face to Harry’s neck. “You don’t get another song today.”

Harry spanked him again, a flat palmed, firm slap that echoed through the room, Louis’ arse cheek jiggling. Louis moaned against his skin, his teeth biting down on Harry’s neck.

“Oh no?” Louis fingers stroked down the front of Harry’s shoulders, delicately dipping into his collar bones. He looked up at him from beneath his lashes. “I thought you liked me dirty?”

“Well, that’s true--uuuue!” Harry’s voice went high, Louis’ fingers tucked under his arms. “No, no, no,” Harry said, already laughing throatily, his head shaking side to side. He hugged himself, his hands gripping his opposite shoulders, his arms tight to his sides. Louis wiggled his trapped fingers and Harry’s body shook with laughter under him, his legs shifting on the rug, his head thrown back. “Not fair!”

“How about…” Louis’ lips pursed forward thoughtfully. “One more song?”

“Say p-please,” Harry giggled, his eyes shining at him.

Louis quirked an eyebrow.

“No.”

Harry was sent into hysterics, all from another easy wiggle of Louis’ fingers.

“I Wa-ah! Ahaha!--Wanna Be--Ah!--Yours!” Harry’s eyes went bright and shocked each time Louis moved his fingers, his full-faced smile growing wide with each jolt, as if he wasn’t aware of what Louis was going to do. “I--Hahaha, Louis! I Wanna--”

“Your face is so cute every time I do this,” he gently dug his fingers in, Harry’s face scrunching happily and his boyish giggles bubbling against Louis’ face, “that I think this’ll have to happen more.”

He halted his fingers and pulled them out of Harry’s underarms, lacing his fingers through the back of Harry’s hair. 

Harry huffed to breathe, his smile never faltering. His throat bobbed. 

“I Wanna Be Yours by the Arctic Monkeys,” he said calmer, smiling wider. “There’s your song.”

Louis smiled and quietly purred, “Aww.” He stroked Harry’s hair, letting his fingers tangle in the sweaty curls at the base of his neck. “That’s a good one.” He kissed the corner of Harry’s lips. “Makes sense.” He scratched Harry’s scalp, massaging the roots of his hair. “We’ve snogged to that song enough for it to be our national anthem.”

Harry’s cheeks were flushed, his smiling lips swollen.

“My pot,” Harry whispered, nuzzling against his stroking fingers. He turned his face and pressed his lips to Louis’ palm, his eyes remaining on Louis’ face. He kissed the inside of his wrist. “My vacuum.”

Louis’ smile grew, his face twitching with an unsung laugh, his eyes nearly shut. 

“My coffee, my dust,” he rasped, their foreheads pressed together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all the readers who celebrate, Happy Thanksgiving! More soon ;)
> 
> . . .
> 
> Title is from my favorite Tegan and Sara song, [ Relief Next To Me ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yftgnkdan8%20)
> 
> Come say hello on [ LJ](http://dolce-piccante.livejournal.com) and [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com)


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A double dose of sorts. Just shy of 30k words. Could probably be broken into two posts, but I feel these two chunks really go together. Things are in motion, I promise! You might just have to squint a bit. Also, some side Ziam in this chapter.
> 
> For texts, _Louis is generally italic_ , while **Harry is generally bold**.
> 
> Warning: Recreational drug use (weed).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to the amazing [Jess](whitechimes.tumblr.com) for reading through this monster of a chapter and offering her wonderful feedback! She is so generous to offer her time that way, and I'm so thankful!
> 
> Thank you as always to all the readers and people who comment/message me. You all are so supportive and sweet, thank you!! <333
> 
> Enjoy!

Louis' closed eyes twitched beneath his eyelids, his mouth trembling open to a perfectly round O shape. He gripped the sheets beside his hips, his stomach puffing up and down with quickening breaths. 

His left leg tremored inwards, a gentle hand flattening on the milky skin of his inner thigh and guiding his leg to the mattress.

“O-Oh,” he stuttered out, his voice pitched pure and high. 

The back of his head tilted into the mattress, the line of his throat lengthened in his stretched position. His right hand clutched at his chest, fingernails dragging over the light hair that dusted the centre, his fingers closing around his nipple. He pulled at the sensitive circle of skin.

“H-Harry--”

Heat surged through his body, racing up from his throbbing middle to tease at the tips of his tingling fingers and toes. He moaned and pulled his nipple harder, hips bucking upwards.

A sudden, breathy giggle bubbled out of his open mouth, both of his legs closing. He started to pant faster, two warm palms guiding his legs open.

He gripped Harry's hair, letting his fingers tighten in the thick waves, pinching his own nipple at the same time. Harry's lips vibrated against his body, one of Harry's hands smoothing up his stomach. Harry dragged his fingernails down Louis' stomach.

A fluttered swirl of his lapping tongue drew a loud burst of combined laughter and moaning from Louis. Harry's tongue flickered quickly before delving deeper, the slow sucks of his lips the only sound besides Louis' stuttering breaths. 

A louder moan and shiver was pulled from Louis' body, as if his body was struck by lightning, every muscle tight and on the brink of snapping. 

Louis exhaled three high pitched, breathy, guttural moans, Harry's palm flat on his stomach. He bucked his hips up. 

“You gonna come for me, gorgeous?"

He blurted out, “Y-Yeah, gonna come,” over Harry's quiet murmur, each one of Harry's words causing a brush of lips against his most sensitive, wet skin. "Gonna--" A low slurping vibrated between his legs, Louis face clenching. “Ungh,” he whimpered, his hips squirming against Harry’s arm. “Ha-Harry--”

His legs involuntarily trembled, his toes digging into the duvet, his thighs closing in around Harry’s head. He clenched his eyes shut, Harry’s right palm corkscrewing up and down his cock.

His inner eyelids projected an image of the solar system, clear and vast as space itself. The planets vibrated in rhythm with Harry’s humming, stars pulsing brighter for each vibration. 

Harry held onto his arse cheeks, one large hand on each side, his thumbs anchored to Louis’ hip bones. He lifted his arse off the bed and groaned low in his throat, pressing his face hard between his cheeks, Louis’ feet barely brushing the mattress. 

Venus crashed into Saturn, the explosion causing a nearby star to throb and expand, the bright flash of light swallowing Pluto whole.

"Harry, fuck, H-Harry," he gasped, his fingernails digging into Harry's scalp, come splattering his stomach. He gripped Harry’s hair with one hand, guiding his head faster, a hot, wet tongue splitting him open. His back arched in a wicked bend, his free hand pushing against the headboard. “F-Fuck, I--” 

Harry wetly sucked right above his groin, lapping at the dark, sticky hair. His arms shifted to wrap around Louis’ lower back, hugging his face to Louis’ stomach.

He lifted his lips to bite into the flesh on the left side of Louis’ navel, then the thin skin stretched over his lowest right rib, then the very faint line that ran down the centre of his abs. He sucked hard, sharp teeth nipping at him, each bit of skin reddened and shining with saliva. 

Harry lowered Louis’ arse to the bed and lifted his face, licking his shining lips. He thumbed the base of Louis’ cock and sucked on the pad of his thumb, the touch pulling a whimper from Louis’ slackened lips. 

“I saw stars again,” Louis panted, his stomach ballooning up and down, a low laugh Harry’s response from the other end of the bed. Louis’ smile was lazy, smoothing his sweat dampened face, his arms bent over his head and flat on the mattress. “Fuck. Fucking interstellar sex.” He swallowed and spread his legs, his body visibly shaking, the sheets shivering around him. “Christ. Jesus Christ.”

“Could eat you for breakfast," a kiss to the crease of Louis' thigh, "lunch," a lick beneath his navel, "and dinner," a longer press of lips on the crease of Louis' right thigh, "I swear." He kissed along Louis' softening shaft, Louis' right knee bending and nudging Harry's shoulder. Quiet giggles coincided with small flutters of his stomach under Harry's lips. “Can't get enough of you.”

Louis tapped his fingertips against his headboard, staring up at his white ceiling. He could still see the stars behind his eyelids, pulsing and on the brink of explosion, even with his dazed eyes open.

He felt Harry slide one hand behind his knee, the other hand cradling the back of his calf. Lips pressed on his inner knee, Harry laying a strand of kisses to his calf muscle, Louis’ eyes falling shut.

“You've already had me for breakfast and lunch today,” Louis whispered, his leg hair standing up more and more, Harry kissing down to his ankle. He stretched his shoulders, his spine popping, a deep groan buzzing in his chest. “And it's not even noon yet.”

“Does that mean I had you for brunch?”

Harry’s words caused tiny breaths of air to puff out, teasing at the thin skin behind his knee. Louis slid his hands behind his head, his flushed cheeks rounding, beams of heat stroking up his bare sides and stomach. 

Louis exhaled, “Double brunch,” on a smile. His eyes fluttered open, his gaze landing on Harry’s smiling face. Harry licked his bottom lip, brushing his nose against Louis’ shin. Louis propped his foot against Harry’s shoulder. “My favourite.”

Harry kissed Louis’ inner ankle.

"Mine too."

“You’d better get your fill of me before Monday.”

Harry groaned through his nose, making a small, whimpered sound as he kissed the bony top of Louis’ foot, cradling his ankle with one hand and his heel with the other. He sat back on his own feet, his body between Louis’ spread legs.

“Don’t even remind me.”

Louis’ toes trembled against Harry’s lips.

“I’m only going to be gone a--” 

He placed his hands over his mouth, his stomach shaking, his eyes crinkling down at Harry’s smirking face. He took a deep breath through his nose, his smile growing. He flexed his foot away from sneaky lips. 

His voice was lighter to continue, “A couple of days and--Fuck me,” a grin stretched over his face, “you have a little thing for my feet, don’t you? It’s fine if you do. I think it’s sweet, actually.”

“I don’t know if I’d classify it as a thing,” Harry said, unbothered. “I’ve never been a foot guy before, but you’ve got cute toes.” Louis grinned, his face flushed happily, Harry’s lips curling upwards as if he knew a secret. “And dainty feet.”

Louis sat up, his elbows holding his shoulders off the bed.

“My feet are not dainty,” he protested, prodding Harry’s nose with his big toe. Harry snuffled a laugh and scratched his thumb nail over Louis’ wrinkled arch. “Alright, alright,” Louis relented, starting to giggle, his knee popping up, “they’re kind of dainty.”

“I fooled around with a guy who was into that a few years ago,” Harry said, back to massaging. He thought for a moment, blinking down at Louis’ kneecap. “He was alright, I guess. Kind of dull unless my socks were off, to be honest, but he was a very nice person.”

“Me too! Shit, I wonder if it was the same guy?”

“Um...” Harry’s brows furrowed. “Matt? From Devon?”

“Oh, phew,” Louis brushed his fingers sideways over his forehead, “no. Mine was called John and he was from San Diego. Hell of a skateboarder.”

“You and all these Americans, Lou, I swear,” Harry said, smiling wide and shaking his head. “How did we manage to get together? I’m so not your type.”

“Your foreskin must have hypnotized me, plus the whole,” his hand swirled in the air, his eyes softening, “big heart, big cock thing.” Harry squawked at that, reaching up to tweak above Louis’ knee. Louis bent his leg and giggled, “The posh boy accent doesn’t hurt, either,

Harry dropped Louis’ foot to the bed, bringing himself up to his knees.

“I do not have a posh boy accent.” Harry squinted, his mouth twitching forward, his hands on his hips. “Do I?”

“You do, my darling, but,” Louis curled his body upwards, “it’s alright.” Harry watched the small ripples that formed on Louis’ stomach. Louis tipped his chin up with one finger, pressing his lips just beside Harry’s mouth. “It works for you.” 

Louis relaxed on his back, Harry’s face still scrunched as a confused pug. He squinted at Louis.

“I’m not _that_ posh.”

“Oh no, Holmes Chapel?”

Harry’s battle to remain serious crumbled into a wobbly smile. His willed his voice to sound stubborn to say, “No,” but it came out as a chuckle. 

“When we Skyped with your sweet, adorable, brilliant mum,” Louis propped an arm behind his head, his other hand flattening his palm upwards, “I also met Lily, when she served your mother her afternoon tea.” Harry opened his mouth to speak, Louis flipping his hand in a swirl in the air and continuing, “As well as Vaughn, who informed her of the status of her roses.” He rubbed his foot up the top of Harry’s thigh. “Your mum is basically a younger, hotter Lisa Vanderpump. I love it.”

“Lily and Vaughn are family!” Harry said on a laugh, gripping both of his ankles. He whipped Louis’ legs up and down, his legs swaying with the motion. “They’ve been with my family since before I was born. Before Gemma was born, even!”

Louis arched an eyebrow, his cock slapping his thighs with each sway of his legs.

“I rest my case.”

Harry huffed out a breath, both smiling at each other. He picked up Louis’ right leg with both hands around his ankle. 

“Also, it’s not a couple of days that you’ll be gone. It’s six whole days, which is triple a couple.” He lowered his lips to kiss down the sole of his foot. That drew a lazier, more pleased sound from Louis, his foot relaxing in Harry’s hands. Harry pouted and pressed his thumbs to his arch, balancing Louis’ foot against his bare chest. “Six days without you.”

“Whatever will you do in my absence?”

Harry’s lips pursed to the right, his thumbs massaging Louis’ foot.

“Probably bake myself into a tizzy and then wank until my palm is sore.”

Louis’ stomach shook as he laughed, Harry smiling against his ankle. 

“Just be sure to wash your hands between activities.”

“Wash my hands? Psh,” Harry scoffed, running his right hand through his hair. His eyes twinkled, his dimple popping out. “If you’re gone, why should I even bother showering?”

“Oh, please,” Louis said knowingly, rotating his foot against Harry’s groin. “I think you’d lose your mind if you didn’t shower every day, whether I’m there or not.”

“True,” Harry said, squeezing his shin. He pressed one more kiss to Louis’ foot, placing his leg back on the mattress. “Seeing as you’re still currently in the same city as I am, I’m gonna clean up.” He pushed himself upright, long fingers itching his stomach. He smoothed both hands down the front of his black boxer briefs. He looked to Louis’ face and found him to be smiling at him, his face sleepy and soft. “Wanna snog you properly.”

Louis’ smile widened. He turned on his side and pulled his duvet over his body, his face peeking out from the top of the blankets. Harry ran his fingers through his hair. 

"What?" He brushed the back of his hand over his lips. "Have I got come on my face?"

Louis shook his head and crossed his ankles, the duvet fluffing up around his legs.

"You're very pretty, is all."

Harry grinned and fluffed his hair out. He tossed his shoulder towards Louis before he walked towards the bathroom, Louis laughing. His arse swayed side to side, the backs of his thighs stretching with each step.

“Fuck me,” Louis whispered to himself, leaning sideways off the bed. “That body.”

The bathroom door swung half shut and Louis teetered on the edge. His fingers dug into the sheets to pull his body backwards. The sound of running water started behind the closed door.

Louis laid back down, itching his thumb behind his right ear. He dropped his hand to the bed and stretched his lower back. He studied the ceiling, his mouth pursed to the left side. He turned his head towards the bathroom door.

"Harry," he said loudly, his brows furrowed.

"Hm?" Harry's hum echoed around the bathroom. Louis could practically see the toothpaste foaming in his mouth from his bubbly voiced, “What?”

Louis turned onto his side and pushed himself up on one forearm, the duvet crinkling to the dip between his ribs and hip. He reached into his bedside table. 

"I didn't finish you off the second time around.” He took out a cleansing wipe, using his fist to shut the drawer. “Come back."

The door creaked open and Harry's head popped out. He leaned his right shoulder on the doorframe, his toothbrush hanging from his lips.

"Um,” his head tilted back, foam brimming on his lips and threatening to spill over, “I, uh…”

Louis’ glanced up from his own stomach and followed Harry’s downwards gaze. He squinted for a moment, the sound of a scrubbing toothbrush slowing in the background. He zoned in on a darkened spot beside Harry’s fly.

“I sort of, uh,” Harry adjusted himself, his cock thick behind the clingy fabric, “finished myself while you were, uh, finishing.”

Louis' mouth opened an inch, then shut, then opened again. He brought his eyes to Harry’s face, his lips rounded in an invisible kiss.

“You...You did?”

“Mmmhmm,” Harry hummed with puffed cheeks. “I couldn’t help, erm--” He pointed at his face, tilting his head to the side. “Sah-hee, gah-wah,” a drop of fluffy white dribbled down Harry’s chin, “ooh-oh.” 

He turned away and Louis asked, “Is that translated to, ‘Sorry, gotta, you know?’”

There was a loud splatter of toothpaste into the sink. 

“Mmmhmm,” Harry hummed, slurping water into his mouth. He spit. “Well done.” 

Louis pumped his arm into the air, victorious, and tossed the wipe in the bin beneath his bedside table. Water started running, along with light splashing sounds from inside the bathroom. 

“You sound like a duckling in there,” Louis said, stretching his legs towards the end of the bed, brushing his hand over his stomach. 

Harry’s laugh was quiet but carried over the water noises.

"Thought I was a bunny?"

"Bunny, duckling, whatever. All cute baby animals apply to you."

When Harry emerged, fresh faced and bright eyed, Louis pushed the duvet down beside him. He patted the empty spot, Harry’s cheeks dimpling. Harry tossed his black pants into Louis’ laundry basket, the skin of his stomach slightly damp. 

Louis pulled his eyes up Harry’s body. His eyes strained to move past his groin, but managed to focus on his nipples instead, the two main ones darkened and puffy, bite marks starting to show beside his two smaller nipples. 

“Your comfort while naked is among my favourite things about you.”

Harry knelt on the edge of the bed, crawling closer to Louis.

“I read an article once that said walking around naked for a bit each day helps you think more clearly. Same with sleeping naked. I think it works for me.”

Louis bit his bottom lip, his hand flattening on Harry’s inner thigh. He rubbed from knee to groin once, clicking his tongue.

“God bless the author of that article.”

“I’m glad you approve.”

Louis’ fingertips ghosted over the hair above Harry’s navel, his fingers walking lower. Harry sat on his bum. He leaned over, his lips brushing against Louis’ mouth, his long legs straightening. 

Louis tightened his thumb and index finger in a tiny pinch of hair.

“You really get off that much from eating me out?”

Harry’s fresh cheeks grew rosy, his smile lopsided.

He breathed out, “Yeah,” on a laugh, folding his legs under the duvet. The bed swayed slightly under them. “You know it gets me going. Like,” he ducked his face down, eyes glancing at Louis through his dark lashes, “really going.”

Louis kissed his nearest nipple, kissing the centre of his chest, flattening on top of him.

“God, you’re such a,” he kissed the base of Harry’s throat, “fucking,” his lips brushed Harry’s left nipple, “good boyfriend,” he said, voice breathy and broken by kisses.

Harry smiled and stroked the back of Louis’ hair, dragging his fingertips over the back of his neck. He shivered even though he was the one doing the stroking. 

“Thank you.”

“‘M serious,” Louis said, lifting himself up. He tilted his head, his eyes tracing over Harry’s face. "It's so silly, but, like…” He pushed Harry’s fringe to the side. “You're kind of like a fantasy romance novel guy come to life."

Harry’s brows peaked, amusement deepening his voice.

"How so?"

"Like, when they describe the dashing male lead, they always use phasing like..." 

Louis’ face melted into a calm smile, his lashes batting and his eyes dreamy, extra raspiness added to his voice. 

"Harold, the estate's trustworthy, handsome ranch hand, was a strapping stallion of a man.” His eyes widened, his voice growing deeper; more dramatic. “He was a tender, passionate man,” he loosely gripped Harry’s cock with his right hand, “one who saw to his bedmate's pleasure like a thoroughbred to his most treasured salt lick."

Harry laughed, "Oh my God," and fell on his side, pressing his face into Louis’ shoulder, Louis’ higher laugh harmonizing with his throaty chuckles. He pulled the blankets up over his body, shifting to press against Louis’ front. He prodded Louis’ chest with two fingers. “And who are you, then?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, in the romance novel.”

“Hmm,” Louis tapped his fingers against his lips. “Probably the butler.” He sighed. “Or the poor sod left in charge of educating the manor’s children. Maybe I’d even sing songs with them, like Maria from The Sound of Music.”

“I was thinking more like the rival ranch hand from a neighbouring estate,” Harry said, his eyes sparkling. He narrowed his gaze, his smile mischievous. “A bull rider, maybe.”

Louis sputtered, “Oh, yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” He cupped Louis’ cheek, pressing a firm kiss to his lips. “You’re a wild one. Rebellious and brave and smart as a whip, but with a heart of gold and,” he patted Louis’ bum, “an arse to match. Harold’s perfect foil in literary form.” Harry propped his face in his hand, his elbow digging into the mattress, gaze flitting over Louis’ smiley, orgasm-softened face. “I bet we'd hate each other for years, but then end up having crazy barn sex after one of us took a fall at the rodeo, making us realize that all along we were meant to be.”

Louis smiled into another kiss, wrapping both arms around Harry’s back, kissing over Harry’s face.

“I like our characters. Very dusty, old romance."

Harry cupped Louis’ cheek, thumbing his cheekbone, the heel of his hand warm on his jawline.

“I like you.”

“Am I rebellious and brave?”

“And smart as a whip, yup,” Harry said, nodding. "Just wild enough." He kissed Louis’ lips, barely a brush before he pulled back, putting extra breath into his voice. “Literature is coming to life in front of my eyes.”

Louis’ eyes crinkled, his legs winding around Harry’s hips.

“Let’s have romance novel sex before Liam gets home from work.” He straddled him, his hands flat on Harry’s chest. “We can pretend we hate each other and you can ride me like a bull.”

“Do you want to get dressed like ranch hands to start?”

“I love that your first thought was to wear proper costumes. Plus,” Louis’s eyes darted to the floor beside his bed, “you sort of have a farmer costume here already.” His lips started to tremble, as did his voice. “It would be wasteful not to use it.”

“Those are my actual clothes,” Harry said with narrowed eyes, massaging Louis’ ribs on both sides. Louis laughter sang into the bedroom. “Cheeky bull rider.”

“I’ve got rope in the kitchen junk drawer,” Louis said on a squeal, rolling off of Harry’s body. He tried to curl into a ball, Harry’s fingers playing his ribs like a grand piano. "We can make you a lasso to match!"

The sound of the front door shutting made Harry’s fingers soften their prods, his eyes glowing as Louis’ laughter calmed. 

“Too late, partner,” Harry said, twanging his words like a cowboy. “I’ll have to lasso you another time.”

Louis wrapped his right arm around Harry’s shoulders, his left arm curling around his lower back. He pulled him onto his body, palms flattening on Harry’s broad back. Wordlessly, he pressed their open lips together, humming and hugging Harry with his thighs. 

Harry stared at his lips, swollen and shining. He leaned down, sucking on Louis’ bottom lip before kissing the corner of his mouth, Louis tilting his head for a firmer, longer kiss. 

Louis squeezed Harry and nudged their chins together, Harry rolling onto his side. The new position allowed Louis to wrap Harry tighter in his arms while laying small kisses over Harry’s cheeks. He dragged his fingers through the back of Harry’s hair, Harry moving his face sideways to snag his lips.

“What do you and Zayn have to do on your trip?” Harry murmured, rubbing his palm up Louis’ lower back. “I wanna hear all about it.”

Louis sighed and nudged their noses together, their bodies laying side by side.

“Lots of client meetings and schmoozing and shared meals with the Miami team. We’ll have some beach time. And Zayn has a friend in Miami that grows the most incredible weed. I’m usually not really into that, but it comes in handy on these types of trips.”

“Why?” Harry chuckled, carding his fingers through the front of Louis’ hair. “What’s so bad about all that you mentioned?”

“It’s not bad, necessarily. It’s more stressful than anything. You have to be on the whole time, because Simon is with you the whole time. That’s where getting a little buzz going during off-hours helps.” 

Louis rubbed his palm over Harry’s ribs, the strong muscles beneath Harry’s skin twitching split-seconds before his fingertips would reach that part of his flank. 

“To be honest,” Louis propped his head up with one hand, “we don’t really get much done on these trips. I think Simon felt like taking a little trip. It’s mostly meeting the other Simone employees from another location and bullshitting. Networking. Putting on a good show. Simon usually makes everyone do some sort of sight-seeing activity together. Thinks of it as team bonding.” Louis yawned, dragging his fingertips over Harry’s nipple. “I think he mentioned something about a day on a yacht or something.”

“Poor, poor you,” Harry said, voice deep and his eyelashes fluttering. “An all expenses paid trip to Miami for the work week, while the rest of us will remain here, pale and pining for you.”

“Even Simon gets stressed, which makes no sense, as he plans everything, but he does.”

“Yeah? He seems like the least stressed person I’ve ever met. Always in complete control.”

“Last trip, he appeared at Zayn’s hotel room right as we lit up on the balcony and said...” He drew his voice into his nose, tilting his chin to side and dulling his eyes. “This is an emergency. I know you two have the good shit.” He clasped his hands together. “Please don’t tell my wife."

Harry burst out laughing, Louis giggling along with him. His voice returned to his normal tone.

“Then he totally smoked Zayn out. The man owns a private plane! He owns an island, and he practically swallowed the joint. Zayn almost cried.”

“I think Liam mentioned something about Zayn hooking us up before he leaves. Is that code for we’re going to get stoned every night you’re gone?”

“Yep, if you’re in the mood to pine high,” Louis said, his eyes glimmering. “Liam’s not much of a smoker, but he gets all mopey when Zayn’s gone, the sap. I think the smell of it makes him feel better. If you’re not in the mood to smoke, that’s totally fine. Liam is so excited to have alone time with his new best friends, Harry and Niall.”

Harry smiled down at the bed.

“He’s such a nice guy.”

“He is.”

“Lou?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m…” Harry looked at Louis from under his eyelashes. “I’m going to miss you.”

Louis’ eyes crinkled at the edges, his body rolling onto Harry’s torso. He kissed the side of his neck, cradling his head with his open hand.

“I’m going to miss you, too,” he whispered, kissing beneath his jawline. He brushed his nose against his skin, breathing in deeply. “A lot, I reckon.”

“Can we FaceTime maybe, uh, once while you’re gone? Unless you’re going to be really swamped with work, which I completely understand and respect.” The tempo of Harry’s words sped up, Louis muffling his laughter by kissing up his neck. “This is a work trip, after all, and you’ll probably have to work, you know? And I don’t want to distract you from any sort of team bonding or career advancing, um,” he lost steam, his confused eyes darting over the ceiling, “advancements of your career?”

“Of course we can,” Louis said, snuffling. “And not just once, silly. I’m your boyfriend.” He lifted his face from Harry’s neck, his gaze warm, his fingers trickling over Harry’s cheekbone. “I’m kind of going to want to see your face, too.” 

Harry smiled up at him, his pale mint eyes watching Louis’ face come closer. Louis kissed his mouth, both smiling into the kiss, their lips lazy. 

“Zayn and Liam will probably have phone sex at least once a night, if not twice,” Louis licked his own lips, “so I can take you on a tour of Miami, or my hotel, via iPhone, if you’d like.”

Harry’s face lit up.

“I’d love that.”

His enthusiasm was catching, Louis’ body buzzing.

“And with the time difference, maybe you and I could, um...” His eyes blinked rapidly, then brightened, his shoulders twitching upwards. “If you silence your phone at bedtime, then I can still text you random bits and bobs before I go to bed, without waking you up.”

“And then I can wake up to your messages. That sounds great! Like we’re pen pals.”

“It’s settled, then.” Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck, tilting his head and firmly pressing their lips together. Harry giggled into his mouth, his legs hugging Louis’ body. “We’ll be pen pals for the week, although,” Louis scrunched his lips to the side, “I don’t think that’s really how pen pals works, but,” he shrugged, “let’s go with it.”

“A few recent photos will come in handy, yeah?” Harry asked more as a statement, his deep voice coating Louis’ body like warm caramel. His eyes raked over Louis’ face, heat radiating between them. “Lots of material to remember each other by.”

Louis’ cheeks coloured. A rare flicker of bashfulness passed over his face, his smile small but his eyes sparkling. It took more than a few heartbeats before his mouth managed a reply.

“You’re such a bad influence, I swear. An absolute menace." Louis couldn't hold back his smile, Harry's smile growing. "Never in my life have I broken that rule of mine.”

“Your face isn’t in that many of the photos.” Harry’s eyelid flickered shut, his grin bridging on wicked. His voice was low to murmur, “Only the kissy ones. I think those are my favourite.”

Louis prodded his stomach.

“Of course they are, you old softy.” He pressed a gentle kiss to Harry’s lips. “And it’s not my face I’m worried about being immortalized in our private Dropbox folder, genius.”

“At least we picked a more secure password besides Harry1234.”

...

“Sunrise was pretty today.”

Harry hummed in reply, the sound a grumbly, low buzz. He hitched a deep brown leather overnight bag higher on his shoulder, a matching rolling suitcase clutched in his left hand. Louis turned his head, eyes dancing from Harry’s bare feet up to his face.

“You look so good in comfy clothes.” His sleep-heavy eyes managed to be bright, despite going to sleep not soon before watching the sun rise. “I feel like I barely see you like this.”

Harry scratched his groin through his low slung, baggy black sweats. His forearm caught on his black and yellow striped tank, his arm pulling it up his stomach with each scratch.

“We don’t usually wear clothing during our sleepovers.”

“True.”

Harry yawned out, “You sure you don’t want me to drive you?”

“Nah. Go back to sleep.” Louis reached the landing and turned to face him. “If Simon feels like springing for car service, so be it. Thanks, though.”

Harry saw a black town car pull up outside the building. 

“Ooh la la.” He jutted his chin forward and walked around Louis. He peered through the door window. “Looks like your ride is here, fancy pants.” Louis came up next to him, taking his overnight bag off his shoulder. Harry bumped their hips together. “And you call me posh.”

Louis took his suitcase out of Harry’s hand and placed it on the floor. He held onto Harry’s hips and turned him around, pressing his back against the door. 

“Thank you for waking up on your off day,” he whispered, stroking Harry’s hair off his forehead. It seemed too early to speak at full volume. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.” Harry cupped Louis’ cheek, his smiling lips higher on the right side. “You have the prettiest eyes,” he whispered, thumbing his cheekbone. “Not just the colour, but the shape of them. The most amazing shaped eyes. Like...Flower petals.”

“The shape of my eyes? Flower petals?” Louis asked, amused. He bumped his nose into Harry’s. “You sure you’re awake?”

Harry lowered his face as Louis raised himself up on the balls of his feet, their lips meeting in the middle. They smiled before they opened their lips together, Louis’ fingers carding through Harry’s hair. 

“Safe flight,” Harry murmured, their lips brushing with each word. He pecked him once. “Let me know when you’ve landed, if you have time.”

“Will do. Always time for you.”

Harry held Louis’ face in both hands, thumbs smoothing over his cheekbones. He gently sucked on Louis’ bottom lip, their heads tilting. Louis scratched his scalp, his other hand wrapped around Harry’s hip and clutching the bottom of his tank. 

Their kisses dissolved into nothing more than innocent presses of their lips, their warm, minty breath mixing together. Louis slipped his palm up the front of Harry’s shirt. He smoothed the pads of his fingers over his right hip, then his left, thumbing two sore, reddened spots. Harry smiled against his lips, pushing into his touch.

A suitcase came sliding down the steps. Their kisses continued without missing a beat, the large, black suitcase sliding along the floor beside them to slam into the wall.

Zayn’s voice grumbled, “Fucking early fucking morning fucking flights,” from one floor up, his boots clomping down each step.

...

“God, look at this view. It’s so...I mean.” He sighed out a breath. His voice was softer to ask, “How amazing is this? The sun is perfect. The sky is perfect.”

The video scanned the skyline from left to right, the ocean quietly crushing against the pure white sand at the bottom of the screen. 

“I hope this video is picking up all the colours for you because they’re so ridiculously pretty. I wish you were here to see it in person. With me. Because, you know, because the colours are so insane. Is that, like, a creamsicle orange? Or is more like a peachy pink?”

“Hmm, look at at that,” he said, his tone curious, the camera pointed at a hut near the shoreline. The balcony was a sheet of glass with a railing on top, the entire ocean visible through the glass. “Looks like they’ve got little boats to rent. That would be fun, though I won’t have time this trip.” 

“Do you like boats? I read they have amazing scuba diving excursions here. Wouldn’t it be fun to scuba and boat together? I bet you’d be so good at both activities. We could scuba and boat and then fuck on one of those fancy white lounge chairs.” He giggled. “Kidding. Or...Maybe not,” he said on a quiet laugh. “We could walk on the beach before or after, really set the mood, you know?”

“But seriously, what do you think of this view? Hey, do you get any holiday time from the bakery? How does that work, since it’s not like an office job? Maybe Henri can cover your stuff for a bit? I wanna take you to a place like this. Do you want to plan a holiday? No rush, just a thought.”

“Lou,” Zayn’s voice said in the background. “Dinner. Unless virtual Harry’s joining us?”

“Ha ha,” Louis said, his face coming into the frame. He smiled wide and pushed his black Ray Bans higher on his nose, his hair ruffling in the breeze. He had a pale blue button down on, the top few buttons left open. His mouth rose higher on the left side, his head tilting. He whispered, “See you soon, beautiful,” and waved before the screen cut out.

...

“And here we are at your favourite sandwich shop, still standing without your patronage.” He breathed heavily for a moment, the sound of trainers slapping concrete the only noise coming through the video. “Even though it’s, like, seven in the morning, I kind of want a sandwich now. Or those spicy chips you like with the dipping sauce. You have such good taste in snacks.”

Harry panted for a few seconds, the camera’s view of the storefronts tipping sideways, the screen rhythmically bouncing. 

“To update you, I’ve been eating super healthy without you. Mac and cheese. Beer. Grilled cheese. More beer. Soft pretzels filled with cheese. And I’ve made so many wedding cakes, I’ve probably ingested an entire cake all on my own. I don’t know why I’m even going running right now, because I’ve been so healthy and---” 

The screen flipped to Harry’s ecstatic face for a flash, sweat dappling his cheeks and his hair standing up behind a thin black headband, his eyes wide and directed away from the camera lens. 

“Oh my God, look at that puppy!” 

The screen jerked back to the street, a small white and gray dog scurrying alongside its owner.

“I wonder what breed that is? Husky, maybe? It looks like a little wolf, like a baby wolf! What a cute dog. Do you like small dogs or big dogs? Medium dogs? I’ve always wanted a dog. One of my neighbours has a dog that looks like a brown bear and he’s so bloody cuddly. I dunno if I could pick between a baby wolf or a baby bear.”

“Oh, look,” Harry said brightly, running faster, “the doggie’s going down your street. I wonder if he lives near you?” The camera momentarily went to neon yellow Nike trainers pounding the pavement. “We can see your building from here. Oh, wait...Nope. They went into another building a few down. Does your building allow dogs?” 

The screen went gray, nothing but stone and street and London fog in the frame. 

“Say hello to Li,” Harry said, directing the camera up the front of Louis’ building. “I wonder what he’s inside doing. Sleeping, maybe? Organizing his sock drawer? Composing a dirty love song for Zayn? Doing special exercises to strengthen his hands that only massage therapists know about? Inquiring minds want to--Oh--Oh, shit--”

The screen went wild, Harry’s running coming to an abrupt halt. His laughter was muffled, the screen covered by orange fabric. 

“Hello, there,” Harry’s voice said warmly. He soothed, “I’ve got you, shhh, I’ve got you,” the sound of metal clinking drowned out by high pitched whimpers.

His hand came into the frame, the phone lifted out from the pocket of his orange running shorts and back into the gray world. Harry was joined by a new, mini-wolf friend, a friend who was happily licking his sweaty cheek.

“It’s okay,” Harry called out, looking ahead, giggling and wrinkling his nose. “He’s fine.” 

“Oh, thank you,” a frantic voice said in the distance, feet shuffling closer. “Bloody lead snapped!”

Harry looked to the camera and grinned, posing his face next to the puppy. The puppy licked his nose, Harry laughing, “What do you think, Lou?” He bit his bottom lip. “Is this a sign we need a little fellow in our lives?”

...

By Thursday evening, the late nights, full days, and early mornings began to wear on Louis and Zayn. An abundance of new faces and names brewed inside their brains, brains that were expected to be creative and charming and polite, while also seeming laidback and carefree and like two guys up for anything.

Zayn flopped on his bed, pressing his face between two perfect, fresh white pillows. He inhaled deeply, his black dress shoes clunking to the floor one by one. His eyes wilted shut, his slender body limp in the middle of his king sized mattress.

“I’m so sleepy, Lou Lou.”

“Mmm, me too.”

They were silent for a moment. The sound of the ocean lapping at the sand filled the room from outside their large balcony door.

“These people can fucking party,” Zayn said, his voice barely audible amongst his mountain of pillows. “Like...Par. Tay.”

“Umph,” Louis groaned, hugging a pillow to his chest, “I know.” He started to giggle, repeating, “Par. Tay,” and sliding his bare feet over the tight duvet. “Dunno how they get any work done.”

“What time is dinner?”

“Erm...” Zayn could hear Louis shifting around on top of his bed. “In about an hour.”

Louis’ shifting stopped, matching slow breaths released into the chilly hotel room. Zayn lifted the white down comforter from his right side, wrapping it sound his body. He ignored the press of his work trouser button digging into his stomach. 

Louis yawned and placed something onto his bedside table.

“Wanna snooze until then?”

“Please,” Zayn mumbled, his lips caught against his pillow. “Too short for a proper nap, but it’ll have to do.” His iPhone buzzed in his back pocket. He groaned, his hand fumbled behind himself, fingers pulling the vibrating device out of his tight trousers. “Did you set an alarm?”

“Yup.”

“Why does Simon kill us on these trips?” Zayn said, curling tighter on his side, his phone clutched in his hand. His eyes fell shut. “So many bloody meetings. My throat’s sore, man.” 

“He’s getting his money’s worth.” The sheets shifted from Louis’ side of the room. “Posh hotels and meals and all don’t come cheap.” He was silent for a moment. “Drinking and napping on the beach at lunch was probably not our brightest move to stay fresh for the rest of the day.”

“True. Thank fuck you brought sun cream.”

“My nose still got burned.”

“My forehead got burned. How does that even happen?”

Zayn and Louis’ phones vibrated, both sighing.

Louis said, “If I open my eyes, I’m probably going to take fifteen more minutes to fall asleep, which almost eliminates the benefit of a snooze.” He reached towards the bedside table, his fingertips brushing the metal back of his phone. He squinted across the room at Zayn. “Is it worth a look?”

Zayn snorted, snuffling into his pillow.

“Yes, please, for the love of God. Look at Li’s message.”

Louis picked up his phone and turned it towards himself. He thumbed in the wrong password, his face scrunching while his thumb attempted to enter the right code.

Zayn asked, “Why is your boyfriend handy and helpful, while Liam is probably too busy organizing his own sock drawer to do mine?”

“What do you mean? They’re all super hungover from last night, I thought. Niall sent me a Snapchat video where he was almost crying about how hungover he was.”

Louis’ phone unlocked. He kept his hand over the side of the screen, the photo on his background causing a surge of warmth to gush through his veins. Harry wasn’t the only one who liked their kissy pictures. He checked his messages.

_meant to send this paparazzi photo earlier today <3 <3 <3 what a dreamboat ___

__Liam's message was accompanied by a photo of Harry standing in Louis’ shower, his arms raised above his head with water dripping on his chest, a thick, heavy looking wrench wrapped around the shower head. He was barefoot with his black skinnies cuffed above his ankles._ _

__Splotches of water caused his white tank to cling to his torso. The dark pink circle of his left nipple showed through the material, his lips pursed, his brows drawn together. His bicep on his wrench holding arm was flexed, the tendons and veins of his forearm bulging out from his pale skin._ _

__“What on earth is he doing?” Zayn asked, tilting his head._ _

__Arousing me from thousands of miles away, Louis thought._ _

__“My shower’s been weird lately, like, with strange pressure,” he said instead. “Our building's repair guy is on holiday in Spain and he said Harry can do whatever he wants to it, as long as he doesn’t break anything. Apparently, Harry likes fixing things and feels personally invested in the status of my shower.”_ _

__“Spends enough time in there,” Zayn whispered to himself, texting a similar message to Liam._ _

__“He was horrified at the thought of hiring an actual plumber.” He placed the tips of his fingers on the centre of his screen. He dragged them outwards, the screen zoomed in on a sliver of Harry’s abs. He muttered, “Christ,” and dragged his index finger over the screen, the image climbing up to Harry’s lifted arms._ _

__“Hey.”_ _

__Louis didn’t look away from the screen._ _

__“Hey, what?”_ _

__“You didn’t correct me,” Zayn said, grinning, sending a text to Liam. His playful eyes rolled towards Louis, who kept his head towards his own iPhone screen, a smile crinkling Louis’ face. He crooned, “Oooh,” his pitch fluctuating from high to low, singing, “Louis has a boyfriend, Louis has a boyfriend.”_ _

__Louis blinked across the room at Zayn. Zayn’s cheekbones looked extra sharp under the glow of his mobile screen, his lips curled into a pleased little bow and his socked feet swaying in the air._ _

__“You’re so silly,” Louis said, directing his attention back to his phone._ _

__Liam had sent along another photo of Harry, who had noticed his paparazzi friend and looked quite confused, his arms still up with a wrench grasped in his long fingers._ _

__“When did it become official?”_ _

__Louis sighed, dropping his phone to the bed. He rolled onto his back, rubbing his hands over his face. His whole body felt hot, even with the air conditioning blasting in their room._ _

__“It’s been a while, actually,” he said. He crossed his ankles and picked up his phone. “Like...Months-ish.”_ _

__“And you didn’t tell us?” Zayn said on a faux-gasp, throwing a pillow at Louis. Louis knocked it away, Zayn sitting up in bed. “Not that it wasn’t obvious and we didn’t assume. We’re very perceptive.”_ _

__Louis sent a quick flurry of messages to Harry that he probably wouldn’t read until the morning, all sleep rumpled face and slouchy socks._ _

_____fuck you’re sexy...so so so sexy_  
 _even though the word sexy is not my favourite, you are so so sexy_  
 _sweet dreams beautiful xxx_

__He looked back to Zayn._ _

__“What were we supposed to do, rent a blimp to skywrite: **HARRY STYLES AND LOUIS TOMLINSON ARE HAVING REGULAR SEX WITH ONLY EACH OTHER** , across the skies of London?”_ _

__Zayn laughed loudly, his phone dropping on the floor mid-belly laugh. Louis smiled as he studied the photos of Harry. He even looked dreamy when confused and covered in fat drops of accidental shower water, all big eyes and pink lips, his hair held back by a pale violet head scarf._ _

__Zayn laid down on Louis’ bed, the duvet from his own bed wrapped over his shoulder._ _

__“Don’t say it like that, man,” Zayn said, resting his cheek on Louis’ shoulder. Louis held his arm out, Zayn curling into him. Stubble brushed over Louis’ shirt, causing tiny vibrations with each word Zayn spoke. “You’re not just having sex.” Zayn’s body did a little wiggle. “You like each other.”_ _

__“We do,” Louis said, unable to keep the bright, delighted words from bubbling out of his throat. He locked his phone and placed it on the bed. “Very much.”_ _

__“So, don’t try to pretend you wouldn’t kiss Harry’s hobbit feet on the hour if he asked you to.” Louis smiled and wrapped his arms around Zayn. He smelled so different from Harry, his John Varvatos cologne crisp and cool and sharp, the faint smell of cigarette smoke lingering in his straight, shiny hair. “We’re not blind, you know? We can see you two work.”_ _

__“I’m not pretending anything. We like our privacy and don’t feel the need to announce to everyone we run into that we’re boyfriends. What’s so wrong with that?”_ _

__“Nothing wrong, I suppose.” Zayn wrapped an arm around Louis’ waist, taking a deep breath with his face pressed to his neck. “Are you even listed In A Relationship on Facebook?”_ _

__“No,” Louis chuckled, stroking the back of Zayn’s hair. “Harry doesn’t use his personal Facebook, unless I wanted to be listed as in a relationship with Helena’s Bakery. He does the social media stuff for that.”_ _

__“How does he not use Facebook? He’s the most friendly person I know.”_ _

__“I guess that’s how he keeps his friends,” Louis said, quieter. He tugged on a chunky strand on the back of Zayn’s head. “He’d rather spend time with them, instead of posting status updates.”_ _

__“But then how will we ever see embarrassing photos of him as a child?”_ _

__“You and Liam are scaring me. Did you run a background check on him, too?”_ _

__“Niall’s included, too. He’s as much a paparazzi as we are. Don’t let his jolly exterior fool you. We don’t have a group message with only the three of us for nothing.”_ _

__“Creeps,” Louis laughed, poking Zayn’s lower back with his thumb. They both smiled, Zayn snickering and squeezing Louis’ hip. Louis slipped his feet under a bundle of Zayn’s duvet. “Harry basically had no awkward, spotty phase, by the way. He has a bit of baby fat that he somehow made work in his favour.” He tightened his arms around Zayn. “The bastard.”_ _

__“I’m just...I’m so happy for you, man,” Zayn said, squeezing Louis hard. He lifted his face out of Louis’ shoulder, his smile bursting with such warmth that Louis thought he heard the air conditioning kick on again. His eyes looked amber up close, a thin, darker line of brown accentuating the exotic colour. “You’re so great together and you couldn’t have picked a more fun person to be with.”_ _

__Louis broke eye contact and said, “Good things come to those who wait, I guess,” smiling and flushing under Zayn’s comforting gaze._ _

__“Very true.”_ _

__“Although,” Louis said slowly, drawing out the word, “I guess something could be said for disappearing into the loo for half an hour after finally being introduced to your best work mate’s childhood best friend, under the guise of having a heated discussion about the proper way to make a mojito.” Louis patted Zayn’s cheek, laughing out, “Worked for you and Li, hm?”_ _

__Zayn’s eyes narrowed, his smile growing more mischievous._ _

__“Ha. Ha.” He dug his fingers unto Louis’ side, Louis giggling and kicking his legs, their bodies rolling on the bed. “Very funny.”_ _

__“And you two hated each other the entire time leading up until you met face to face! I should write a novel about it. Such romance. Such drama.”_ _

__When Louis first started working at Simone, every time he mentioned how clever Zayn was, how good he was behind or in front of a camera, how he had such good taste in tea, Liam’s face would scrunch in a constipated smile, his answers polite but short._ _

__‘Great, Lou,’ he’d say in response to a funny work story. ‘He sounds great.’_ _

__When Louis would rave about Liam’s big heart, or how Liam made him laugh so hard he pulled a rib, or how Liam was the most loyal person he’d ever known for the entire run of his life, Zayn would let out a weird sort of laugh._ _

__‘That’s nice,’ he’d gruffly reply, his smile tight. ‘Sounds cool.’_ _

__“We didn’t hate each other.” Zayn stopped his digging fingers, his hands flat on Louis’ heaving sides. He smiled crookedly. “We didn’t want to share you. You’re kind of special to us, you know?”_ _

__Louis’ eyes crinkled, his smile soft._ _

__“I appreciate it.”_ _

__There was a loud knock at the door, both looking over Louis’ shoulder towards the noise. Louis slid across the bed feet first, his bare feet padding silently over the thick, khaki carpet. He pulled the door open._ _

__“Oh,” he said, surprised. He stepped back, holding his right arm out. “Hi. C’mon in.”_ _

__Simon came into the room, Zayn hurrying to stand up. Louis snuck around Simon to shove his exploding suitcase into a closet, a path of dirty dress shirts left behind him._ _

__“Evening, gentlemen,” Simon said, his arms crossed over his chest._ _

__“Hey,” Zayn said, shoving the duvet off his shoulders, Louis kicking his clothing into the closet. “Alright?”_ _

__“Yes, yes. All is well.” He eyed a bundle of black Fruit of the Loom boxerbriefs on one of the chest of drawers, the plastic wrap ripped open with three of the six folded pairs remaining. His brows furrowed, Louis’ hand coming into his line of vision to shove the package into an overnight bag pocket. “And you two?”_ _

__“Yeah, all is well,” Zayn said, closing his open suitcase. His foot got caught on a bunched up blue dress shirt, his leg lifting to kick it behind himself. “We’re relaxing before dinner.”_ _

__“I, um, forgot to pack enough pants,” Louis blurted out. “Hence, the, uh,” his fingers fluttered towards his overnight bag, “yeah.”_ _

__“I see,” Simon said, still walking around their room. “Are you both enjoying yourselves?”_ _

__“Oh, yeah, absolutely,” Louis said, a touch calmer. His and Zayn’s eyes followed Simon as he wandered about their hotel room, inspecting the wall art and generic, but stunning, furniture as if they were in a museum. “Definitely. This hotel is amazing. The meals, as well.”_ _

__“And the flight was sick,” Zayn said. Simon had paused in front of a cerulean arm chair, his back to Louis and Zayn, his head tilted. “Most comfortable flight I’ve ever had.”_ _

__“Excellent.” Simon turned to face them and sank into the arm chair, crossing his right leg over his left. He steepled his fingers on his lap. “You’re both relaxing, hm?”_ _

__Louis and Zayn quickly glanced at each other._ _

__“Yes,” they said, nodding in unison._ _

__“I only ask because,” Simon reached into his front pocket, “I believe I might have something that could help with your relaxation process.”_ _

__He lifted his hand, letting all of his fingers besides his thumb and middle finger release. A plastic bag unfurled, three fat joints weighing down the bottom of the bag._ _

__Zayn exhaled, “Sweet Jesus,” under his breath, Louis’ thumbs digging into his palms, both of their faces slackened with combined shock and joy._ _

__“Well?” Simon asked. He smirked, swirling the bag in the air. “We’re having lobster for dinner tonight, boys. Let’s blaze.”_ _

____

...

Louis would never forget the shape of Simon’s mouth while saying the words, “Let’s blaze,” nor would he forget the experience of being the highest that he’d ever been in his life and trying to crack open jumbo lobster claws, Zayn laughing next to him and making his lobster walk across the table.

“Maybe lobster night wasn’t the smartest choice,” Simon whispered in his ear, giggling like a sixteen year old caught smoking out by his father’s shed. “They look like baby dinosaurs, right? Don’t they?”

Zayn’s voice broke into Louis’ head, mumbling, “Spa date,” in one ear with Simon rattling off, “Triceratops, t-rex, stegosaurus, brontosaurus,” in his other ear.

“Like, here?” Louis said, lobster meat tucked into the pocket of his mouth. He held his hand over his lips and chewed. “Wanna get massages?”

“Not us,” Zayn said, sipping his scotch. “The boyfriends,” he prodded Louis’ cheek with his lobster’s claw, “duh.”

Louis looked around the table, still chewing his lobster. It seemed that he and Zayn were in good company, with the rest of the employees all pleasantly lit and bridging on raucous in the expensive restaurant. Loud salsa music nearly drowned out their chatter, the other patrons equally rowdy.

Simon’s giggly voice came back into his ear to say, “Maybe lobster night was a good choice, hm? Dirty Thursday.”

Louis swallowed, dabbing his lips with a napkin.

“What?” he asked Zayn.

“Li’s taking Zah and Niall to the spa tomorrow. Giving them the works.” Zayn’s wine glass paused a breath from his lips, his face scrunching. “Haz.” He blinked at Louis, dissolving into giggles. “Wait, did I just call him Zah?”

Louis stood from the table, saying, “Excuse me,” to Simon with a smile. 

He walked quickly to the lobby of the restaurant, his fingers flying over his screen. He paced from side to side of the vast, marble hallway off the lobby, the lights dim and neon coloured lights changing over the high walls. 

Harry’s rumpled face appeared on his screen. The background was pitch black, the pillows behind Harry’s head a dull gray. Harry smiled with his eyes still shut, lifting his hand, his bare shoulder flexing.

“Baby, please don’t wax your arsehole,” Louis blurted out, frantic. Harry’s eyes widened, sleep crust dusting the corners of his eyes and the skin below his lips sticky with saliva. “It’s perfect just the way it is and if you wax it, you’ll have to keep doing it, and you don’t need to, you really don’t. I know Liam gets it done, which is--” 

Louis wrinkled his nose and shook his head, his tongue flopped out of his mouth.

“--I love eating you out just the way you are, fuck, I fucking love it.” Louis clenched his eyes shut. “Wish I could eat you out right the fuck now.” He opened his eyes, pleading, “Please, please, please. You’ve got a perfect arse, fucking perfect hair. Like, basically no hair, really. Please, don’t get waxed. You’re perfect just the way you are.” 

Once he stopped speaking, he heard his words echoed back to him, his voice carrying through the entire hallway. A group of women froze mid-step to get to the toilet, a few bus boys peering at him from the lobby door. 

Their laughter rolled over him like a wave of sound, Louis’ face colouring as neon pink as the walls. He heard their heels click away and the bus boys chattering in the distance, Harry’s throaty laughter now the only sound in the empty hallway.

“Lou,” Harry said, smiling higher with the right side of his mouth. “Liam said he could get me and Niall free hair cuts.” He licked his lips, his throat bobbing on the small iPhone screen. “At the spa later. No waxing mentioned, just a trim.”

Louis exhaled and let his head drop back, Harry’s laughter echoing through the hallway.

“Though now I know a whole lot more about Liam’s hole than I ever thought I would.”

“Oh my God, gross,” Louis said on a groan, sticking his entire tongue out. He held out the word, “Gross,” as his lips morphed into a floppy square, his head sinking into his neck.

“You are so high,” Harry said on a lazy, low laugh, his body rolling sideways on his bed. Louis could see his white duvet wrap around his body. “That time we smoked at Ed’s, you got cuddly and,” his voice dropped, “a little horny.”

“I usually am!” Louis rubbed his hand over his face, his palm picking up fresh sweat. “Simon brought this insane, like, mega-weed to our room before dinner, and now I’m just,” he looked longingly at Harry’s sleepy face, “surrounded by tiny dinosaurs and thinking of your arse hair and I’m _sweating,_ ” his voice grew louder for that word, “my fucking _balls off_ here! Who takes a business trip to Miami in July!?”

Harry’s mouth took up the entire screen, his laughter causing feedback to sound through Louis’ iPhone speakers.

...

Harry thumbed a page of his book up and flipped it, smoothing his fingers down the spine. The softcover book, _Dress Your Family In Corduroy and Denim_ by David Sedaris, rested against his inner thigh, his hand holding it in place. He poked his fork into a large glass bowl propped between his folded legs, greens crunching under the prongs. He brought a bite to his mouth, his eyes never leaving his book.

He chewed for a moment, reloading his fork with spinach, a slice of cucumber, and a chunk of hard boiled egg. He popped that bite into his mouth and chewed, flipping to the next page.

“Mon amour?”

His eyebrows rose slowly, his eyes moving away from his book and towards the door of the kitchen. He smiled with his lips shut, his hand lifting his napkin to his mouth.

“Yes?” He balanced his fork against the edge of the bowl and sat up straighter. “Is it busy again?”

“No, no, all is quiet,” she said, holding her palms towards him. “All is well.”

“Cool,” Harry said, his body relaxing. He smiled at Helena and tilted his head, prepping another forkful of salad. “What’s up?”

“There’s someone here to see you.” Harry’s eyes brightened, Helena’s smile apologetic. She shook her head. “Not Louis, love, sorry. Sorry to get your hopes up.”

“I figured,” Harry said, his body crumpling against the wall. “He’s not due back until Saturday, anyway.” He pushed himself up to stand, stepping around his salad bowl. “Wishful thinking,” he said, smiling. “Who is it?”

“Someone from,” her voice quivered, “The Telegraph.”

Harry’s features were blown open, his eyes wide and his mouth agape.

“Oh,” he said, gripping the pockets of his white apron. “They…” His brows scrunched inwards. “They want to talk to me, not you?”

“You’re our star, love, don’t be silly,” she said, her excitement bubbling through. “He said something about featuring the shop on a list. A list!” She held her small hand out, Harry looping his arm through hers. “Let’s go talk to him.” Her body wiggled as they walked, Harry chuckling and rubbing the top of her hand. “Who knows what this could bring?”

...

Louis flopped onto his hotel bed for the last time, all four limbs spread wide and his body aching. He heard Zayn snoring into his pillows from beside him, the ocean lapping the shore.

If he opened his eyes, he was sure he’d see the perfect moon beaming over the ocean and spilling into their dark room, every expensive detail in pale blue and khaki hidden in shadows. Opening his eyes seemed such a chore after Simon asked Louis to join him for a nightcap with the board of Miami’s Simone location. Who knew his boss had an endless tolerance for tequila?

He managed to move his right hand down to pull out his mobile. He unlocked the screen and squinted at the time, counting down the hours until they needed to be at the final employee event, a big farewell breakfast, for this bender of a business trip.

He threw his right foot over the edge of the bed. He stood up and stretched his arms over his head, yawning. He stepped on the backs of his dress shoes and kicked them aside. 

He padded barefoot over the thick carpet to the glass door of their balcony and unlocked it, sliding it open as quietly as he could. He shut it behind him and walked onto the balcony, sitting in a long white lounge chair and stretching his legs out.

He opened the camera of his iPhone and switched it to video, turning the screen away from himself.

“Well, mon lapin,” he said softly, his voice nothing more than a rasp, “you’re probably in the midst of the morning rush right now.” He panned over the moonlit sky, the pounding throb of a nightclub buzzing in the distance. “Or maybe you’re taking your lunch break and eating a salad at breakfast time, which will never not be weird to me. But I’m not really into salads like you are. You’re like a brontosaurus. Sorry,” Louis laughed to himself, “Simon’s been on a dinosaur kick. So random. He’s been random, lately.”

“I had drinks with him and the Miami people tonight. We already had dinner together and drinks at dinner, so I don’t know why Simon summoned me. The whole trip, he’s been winking at me and making little jokes. Laughing at all my jokes. And the way the Miami people seemed to know all about me already, it was...Bizarre.” Louis sighed, rubbing his right foot up his left trouser leg. “Or maybe the heat is just morphing my brain. Who knows.”

Louis crossed his ankles at the end of the chaise, wiggling his toes. The screen picked up the entire view of the ocean, plus Louis’ feet peeking in the very bottom of the frame.

“What a view, hm? It’s not even terribly hot out right now. So comfortable.” He took a deep breath in, propping an arm behind his head. “I could sleep out here, it’s so lovely.”

He sat in silence for almost an entire minute, the phone still filming the ocean in the distance.

“I can’t wait to see you tomorrow,” Louis whispered, curling his legs into his body. “I always thought people in relationships were sort of full of it with all this, ‘I miss my boyfriend, I miss my girlfriend, blah blah blah,’ business. But…” 

He snuffled, turning the phone towards his face. His right shoulder shrugged forward. 

“I get it now. I watched your bakery message, like, ten times today. Ten times!” He grinned uncontrollably, his voice going higher; softer. “That’s so wonderful, darling. I’m so proud of you. You deserve a billion write-ups. The most--” He yawned and held his hand over his mouth, his eyes crinkling behind his palm. “The most praise. And I think I’ll probably watch it one more time before I pass out. I need to go to sleep. Otherwise, I’ll sleep through breakfast, and I’ve never been one to pass up a free breakfast.” 

He turned the phone back towards the ocean, letting it film for a moment.

“See you tomorrow. Well, tomorrow and today, I suppose. Soon, that’s all that matters.”

He ended the video and stood up from the chaise. He went back into his room, sliding the door shut. He moved his newest video to their shared folder and thumbed a message to Harry:

_left smthg little for you in the dropbox xx_

He tossed his phone on the bed and undressed, sliding his arms out of his black suit jacket. He threw his white dress shirt on top of the pile of clothing exploding out from his suitcase, letting his black trousers wilt to the ground. He folded his yellow (‘Lemon,’ Harry’s voice corrected in his head. ‘It’s perfect with your eyes. Makes them pop.’) tie over his hand and slid it into the front pocket of his suitcase. He pushed on the top of the bag and tugged at the zipper. 

It didn’t budge.

He sighed and rubbed his palms over his face. That would have to be dealt with tomorrow.

He went to his bed and pulled the duvet down, crawling inside the cool sheets. He laid on his stomach. His phone pressed against his groin. He reached between his legs and picked up his phone, unlocking it.

He went into their Dropbox, checking the status of his upload. It had uploaded, though his eyes lingered on a file titled _Snore Ya Later xx_ that he hadn't noticed before. 

He reached to the right and picked up his earbuds, his brows furrowed and his smile confused. He plugged them into his phone and settled on his side, his back to Zayn. He clicked on the video.

Harry appeared on the screen, his bedroom dark, moonlight giving him a silvery blue glow.

“Hello, flower petal,” Harry drawled, a cozy smile spreading over his face. His voice was quiet, as if he didn’t want to wake Niall from a nap in the living room. Warmth transferred from his smile to Louis’ entire body. “You’re probably in a big, fancy, businessman meeting right now, or tripping on acid with your employer,” Louis grinned at that, “but I wanted to check in for your last night away.” He pulled the phone away from his face, revealing his bare chest. “As you can see,” he tilted the phone upwards, “Liam’s free spa haircut--”

“No,” Louis gasped on a laugh, his hand flying to his mouth. 

“--Was a bit more intense than I had anticipated. The guy sort of went to town.” Harry fluffed his shorter, curlier hair with his hand, his side stretching with the motion. “So, now it appears your boyfriend is a twelve year old.”

“Your hair, your beautiful hair,” Louis whispered, his eyes crinkled and his cheeks aching. Harry’s hair still qualified as long, strands licking low enough to pass his earlobes, but it was much more tame compared to when Louis left him. Louis glared over his shoulder at Zayn’s sleeping form. “I’m going to castrate your boyfriend.” 

Zayn clucked a snore, slapping his lips together. 

“But I wanted to give you a snore-o-gram,” Harry’s deep voice continued through Louis’ earbuds. “Incase you were too wired from work to sleep, you know?” Louis cuddled down onto bed, refocusing on his phone screen. Harry shook one finger at him. “You’d better get lots of rest, young man. You’ll need your energy once you’re back home.”

Harry moved the phone to the pillow opposite his face. He smiled, his dimple popping out and his eyes heavy. He waggled his fingers at the screen, his bicep fluttering. 

“Night, Lou,” he whispered, his hand sliding under his pillow. He shifted to lay on his stomach, his face angled towards the phone. “See you tomorrow.”

Louis curled tighter on his side, both hands cradling his phone.

“Goodnight, beautiful,” Louis whispered back. Harry’s eyes twitched under his lids, his lips quirking upwards, as if he could hear Louis’ voice. “Sleep tight.”

Harry was silent for a moment, then broke into a wide smile with his eyes shut.

“I feel like I’m on Big Brother,” he murmured, giggling. “I don’t know if I can fall asleep on camera. Usually, I’m asleep within seconds, but I didn’t plan this well. I’d be terrible on reality television.” Harry squinted one eye open. “Hurry up and come home so you can scratch my back to put me to sleep.”

Louis said, “And your hair,” at the same time as Harry saying, “And my weird, teenage hair,” his voice deeper, his words slower.

Harry’s back rose up with a deep breath. He nuzzled his cheek against his pillow.

“I think it’s…” Harry took another long breath in, his head bobbing down towards his chest. Louis could see his fingertips twitching on the mattress. Harry’s mouth was almost motionless to say, “I think I’m falling…” 

His head tipped forward, his curls blocking the camera. His phone slowly slid down the pillow and landed on the bed, Louis able to see a sliver of Harry’s sleeping face. His snore was muffled by pillows, but carried through the video.

“Me too,” Louis whispered just as he tipped into sleep, Harry’s snores droning in his ear.

…

Harry raced up the steps of Louis’ building, his heart hammering in his chest. He checked his watch. His feet sped up to take the steps two-by-two, the right strap of his white tank top falling off his shoulder. He cradled a chilly glass bottle against his chest with his left hand, the neck prodding the bare skin beside his nipple.

“Woo,” he gasped out on a high coo, his eyes wide.

His right hand fumbled to shift the bottle upwards. He held the bottle by its neck and made it up the final step to Louis’ level. He jogged down the hall, reaching into his pocket. He pulled his keys out and located the shiniest silver key in the bundle. 

The tip of his key brushed the doorknob once before the knob turned. Harry’s lips pursed forward as the door swung open. 

The rush of joy that soared through his body when he saw crinkled petal eyes, a glowing face, and a slightly rosy nose felt equal to every Christmas morning Harry could ever remember experiencing.

“You little sneak!” he exclaimed with an uncontrollable smile. He reached out with both arms as Louis slammed against his front, both laughing and squeezing each other, kissing whatever skin they could manage. “I step out for two minutes and you appear!”

“Surprise,” Louis said, holding Harry’s face in his hands. 

He rose up on his tiptoes and planted a loud kiss on his lips. Harry leaned into him and Louis stepped backwards, shutting the door with his back. Harry nudged Louis’ navy blue beanie off his head, running his fingers through his hair. 

Their lips only broke apart for Louis to say, “I missed you,” between kisses.

“I missed you so much,” Harry said, kissing Louis’ chin. “So, so much.” He kissed beneath his jawline. “You smell like coconuts.”

“Sun cream.”

Harry looped his arms under Louis’ arse and tightened his hold, the cool bottle still clutched in his right hand. Louis’ feet rose off the ground while they kissed. One of his black Tom’s fell to the floor, his legs winding around Harry’s hips and his ankles locking around his back.

He rubbed his nose over the strong line of Harry’s neck. After a week of too clean hotel smells, plus the potent combination of cigarettes, weed, alcohol, and pure stress sweat, Harry’s familiar sweet, simmering skin was a welcome change.

Harry hitched him higher in his arms and ground into him against the door, their lips pressing together. Both moaned mid-kiss, Louis’ head tilted to the side, Harry’s hand squeezing Louis’ arse. 

“Never knew it’d feel like that,” Harry said, quieter. He licked his lips. “Never understood it.” He looked lost for a moment, his eyes cloudy as he blinked at Louis. “Why people don’t like when their significant other travels.”

“I know, isn’t it crazy?” Louis gasped out, kissing him harder. He whispered, “Significant other,” and kissed him again, Harry humming deliriously, his hand bunching in the back of Louis’ tee. “We don’t even see each other every day when we both get busy and are in the same city, but this time apart--It just--” 

Harry sucked hotly on his lips, Louis distracted by his tongue licking into his mouth. Both moaned again, Harry carrying him away from the door. He started to move towards the bedroom hallway. 

Louis continued, “Being away from you made me,” and sank his teeth into Harry’s lower lip, “insane.”

“Me too.”

Louis started to ramble faster, Harry’s bites to his neck making his words fluctuate in pitch.

“Work was work and Simon kept us busy. My mind was already on the brink from so much stress. But I went to the hotel gym every day just to run and get sweaty.” Louis held Harry’s face in his hands to stare into his eyes. “Sweaty in Miami, where it’s like sitting on the sun.” He pecked him, Harry’s mouth breaking into a smile under his lips. “Isn’t that bonkers? I’ve never used a hotel gym in my entire life. I fell off the treadmill the first morning.”

Harry fell sideways into the wall with Louis in his arms, their laughter interrupting another searing kiss. He propped Louis against the wall, grinding into him.

“I ate like shit the first two days you were gone, but I worked out like a fiend this week.” 

Louis smiled against his lips, his fingers digging in and scratching Harry’s scalp. His hands were desperate to grip and squeeze whatever part of Harry possible. 

“I ran,” Harry said, both sharing a quick kiss. “I did hot yoga.” A longer kiss, Louis slipping his tongue into Harry’s mouth. “I tried pilates.” Louis moaned while sucking Harry’s lips, Harry’s eyes twitching beneath his closed lids. “I did more crunches than Britney Spears at her peak.”

“Oh, did I miss you,” Louis practically purred, slipping his right hand up the front of Harry’s tank.

“I even went to the gym with Liam to lift.”

Louis giggled, “Liam’s gym looks like an illegal tattoo parlour.”

“I went with him twice! I was desperate.” Harry’s mouth softened against Louis’ lips, Louis’ fingers gripping his lower back beneath his shirt. Harry whispered, “I was so horny I made lemon bars at work because your hair sometimes smells like lemons.” Harry started to walk again, Louis’ legs tightening on his waist. “After you clean, you know?”

“What were they called?”

Harry’s eyes fluttered to the ground, his boots scuffing along the floor as he walked.

“Lonely London Bars.”

“Aw, baby,” Louis murmured, hugging him tighter. He rested his cheek over Harry’s heart. “No more lonely. Nope. Won’t allow it.” He clung to Harry’s muscled torso, pressing his lips to the bare front of his shoulder. “Did they sell out?”

“Well,” Harry hummed and swayed his head side to side, “yeah.”

Louis scratched the back of his hair.

“Good baker. Wait, do you have--Ungh,” he muffled a moan againt Harry’s neck, Harry’s free hand squeezing between his legs, “a roast in the oven?”

“Yeah, figured you’d be--You’d be--” Harry fell into the opposite wall. Louis smirked and palmed him harder through his jeans, one arm still looped over his shoulders, his hand sliding under the strap of his white tank top. “Hungry later.”

“Sexy and domestic? You’re perfect,” Louis said, digging in his fingernails between his shoulder blades. Harry shuddered and leaned in, their mouths opening together, breaths panted between them. “You’re amazing. Holy fuck, I missed you.”

“I must have watched your videos a million times,” Harry rasped, kicking open Louis’ bedroom door. “Dropbox is the greatest invention of all time.” He kissed beneath his ear. “Fuck, I missed you.” He buried his face in Louis’ neck. “Ungh, you’re tan. I’m jealous.” He sank his teeth into his neck, sucking his pulse point. “So fucking sexy.”

“How many times did you wank this week?”

Harry’s smile widened as he dropped Louis to the bed, crawling on top.

“About a million.”

Louis grinned and gripped the centre of his white tank, pulling him down. 

“I’d say we should fuck,” Louis started to say, unbuckling Harry’s belt, “but I don’t think I can last long enough to prep. I’m about to come all over myself.”

“You’re speaking my language,” Harry said, pulling Louis black joggers and boxers below his cock, which sprang up and slapped his belly. Harry’s eyes sparkled, his face lowering to Louis’ stomach. He tongued the pale skin below his waistline, pushing his striped t-shirt up his flat stomach. He whispered, “Tan lines,” and opened his lips to bite Louis’ hip bone.

“Take your pants off,” Louis said quickly, jerking his hips up to meet Harry’s mouth. “And get up here, please. I can’t believe you’re wearing that shirt. Your arms are going to kill me. And your fucking back, Jesus Christ.”

Harry smiled and moved on top of him, Louis’ hands pushing his jeans down his hips. Harry ground against him, Louis’ head dropping back. Harry’s fingers laced in Louis’ hair and he pulled his head back further, sealing their lips together.

Louis’ right hand wrapped around Harry’s cock, his left hand sliding between his legs.

“Jesus Christ,” Harry gasped out, bucking into Louis’ tight, warm grip. “Oh--”

Louis squeezed his balls, letting his index finger barely tickle behind them. Harry let out a whimpered, quiet laugh and squirmed, grinding against him. He licked his palm, starting to jerk Louis in time with his own strokes. Louis moaned and tilted his head, Harry kissing him slowly, their hands working faster and faster.

It only took a few frantic, slippery kisses and tight-gripped strokes before Harry was coming, spurting over Louis’ navel and dappling the hair of his groin. Harry’s chest heaved as he mouthed over Louis’ neck, grinding against him. Louis let out a tiny gasp high in his voice, his thighs hugging Harry’s body, come smearing on both of their stomachs.

Harry rolled onto his back, his arms guiding Louis to straddle him. His tank had ridden up on his stomach, the material at about mid-rib. 

He jerked Louis fast and hard, giving his arse one loud slap before Louis’s body seized, his back arching and his mouth gasping for air. Harry squeezed Louis’ cock as he came all over his stomach, Louis propping himself up with one arm, his hand squeezing a pillow and his mouth slamming into Harry’s. 

They panted together for a bundle of kisses, each one growing softer, their breath calming. 

“That was proper teenage,” Harry sighed out, smiling into a kiss. He stroked Louis’ sweaty cheek. “Fucking loved it.”

Louis snuffled into his mouth. He rubbed his bare foot over Harry’s shin.

“I only have one shoe on.”

“I still have both of my boots on.”

They laughed, their foreheads nudging together. 

“We didn’t take our clothes off.”

“And the wine’s still cold,” Harry said, lifting the bottle from beside their bodies. 

Louis flattened on top of him, hugging him with both of his arms around Harry’s middle. His hand slipped up the back of his shirt.

“You’re so sweet,” he whispered, lightly dragging his fingernails down Harry’s spine. “Buying my favourite cheap white wine.” He tilted his face to kiss his chest through his tank. “What a doll.”

“Dunno if you could tell, but,” Harry’s hand cradled the back of Louis’ head, “I’m very excited you’re home.”

Louis smiled, nuzzling his nose beneath Harry’s jaw line.

“I’m pretty excited, too.” He took a slow breath in. Louis said, “I missed you,” his sincere words muffled by Harry’s skin. He kissed Harry’s pulse, his fingertips stroking down Harry’s outer arm. He squeezed his bicep. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too.” Harry’s fingers tangled in the back of Louis’ hair. “Like crazy. Crazy, crazy.” He thumbed the dip that ran down the centre of the back of his neck. “And,” he kissed his forehead, “I have a surprise for you.”

Louis’ brows arched, his face lifting out of Harry’s neck. He found Harry to be smiling already, his lips closed but his eyes bright.

“What? Other than the wine and dinner?”

“Yup.”

Louis kissed his lips, holding his face with both hands. He kissed the tip of his nose.

“You’re too good to me.”

“No way,” Harry drawled, rubbing both hands over his bare arse. He pursed his lips, Louis pecking his mouth. “You deserve everything.” Louis grinned, his cheeks heating. “Especially after such a taxing business trip.” His fingertips danced up Louis’ lower back. “Did you wear suits while you were there?”

“I did. I’m basically going to dump my entire suitcase, pants and socks and all, at the dry cleaners tomorrow. Wore lots of tight trousers and ties,” Louis said lowly, noting the spark in Harry’s eyes. “You’re so funny,” he said on a laugh, pushing Harry’s fringe off his forehead. He laid on his side, his legs still wrapped around Harry’s waist. He quirked one finger. “C’mere and snog me. Missed your mouth.”

They kissed again, and again, and then some more. Their cocks were still out, come drying stiff on their stomachs, but neither seemed to care while their lips massaged and sucked.

“I bought you lots of presents,” Louis whispered, kissing Harry’s right cheek. “Zayn made fun of me for how much my luggage weighed.” 

Harry smiled and nuzzled against him. 

“You didn’t have to buy me anything. That’s so sweet of you.”

Louis stroked the back of his hair. 

“Do you like the Miami Heat?”

“Is that a…” Harry’s nose and lips scrunched to the side. “Baseball team?”

“Close. Basketball. Doesn’t matter.” He tilted his face towards Harry, their lips pressing together. “I bought it for you because it’s sleeveless.”

Harry smiled against his mouth.

“Oh, yeah? Sleeveless? Am I getting a gown after your next business trip?” Louis’ fingers danced over his navel, Harry giggling out, “A little lingerie, perhaps?”

“Mmm, don’t give me any ideas,” Louis teased, pressing their lips together and rolling Harry onto his back in one swift motion. They both laughed quietly, Louis lifting himself up to peer down at Harry’s smiling face. He ran his fingers through Harry’s fringe. “Your hair’s not too short at all.”

Harry’s eyes rolled upwards, watching Louis’ fingers.

“I think they put a weird styling gel in it that day. Made my hair so curly. And crunchy. Made it look shorter than it is.”

“Yeah, it looks a bit more chill today,” Louis said, curling his finger around a strand brushing the base of Harry’s neck. “Still totally pretty.”

“I’m glad my hair is still totally pretty to you.” Louis smiled and tugged on his hair, Harry jutting his hips up. “I think we need to clean up, yeah? I’m…” Harry’s nose crinkled. “Sticky.”

“I agree,” Louis said, rolling to his side. He kicked his joggers down, using his feet to pull them off. He pulled his tee over his head, his body curled over with his lower half naked. He heard Harry’s boots hit the floor in unison, the swoosh of his jeans following. “I smelled questionable to begin with from traveling, but now I‘m officially in smelly territory.”

“Yeah.”

“Oi,” Louis laughed, giving Harry’s ribs an easy shove.

Harry rolled onto his side, wearing just his white tank, his long limbs curled inward. He had come smeared on his stomach and faint bite marks starting to show through on his neck, but still exuded boyish, mischievous energy.

Louis stood from the bed, stretching his arms behind his head. 

“Shower?”

Harry’s eyes ignited, his mouth popping open. He hopped up and ran in front of Louis, the abandoned wine bottle rolling to the centre of the bed.

“Close your eyes.”

Louis pursed his lips forward.

“What? Why?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Louis shut his eyes. Harry’s warm hands wrapped around the front of his face. A cock nudged against his arse and he started walking.

“I can keep my eyes shut to walk into the toilet,” Louis said, fighting a laugh. “I do live here, you know.”

“But then you might stub your toe.” A soft kiss landed behind Louis’ ear. “I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart.”

“And because you like my toes.”

“I am very fond of them, yes.”

The door quietly creaked open. Louis felt the floor change to cool tile under his feet. 

“Alright,” Harry said, hugging him from behind. “Please keep your eyes closed for a second without my assistance.”

“Whatever you say.”

Harry’s body heat left the air around Louis. Louis could hear his large feet padding on the tile, the glass shower door opening. 

Louis jumped slightly, a warm hand wrapping around his wrist. Harry’s thumb smoothed on the underside of his wrist, pulling him forward.

“Step up, please.”

He lifted his feet at the edge of the shower. He felt the smaller, textured tiles beneath his feet, able to see their stone design with his eyes shut. He heard the door shut behind him.

“Well?”

Harry gripped his outer biceps and turned him a touch to the left.

“Alright,” Harry said into the back of Louis’ hair. Louis felt him smile, his lips pressing three kisses in a line along the curve of his neck. “You can open.”

Louis’ eyes opened and darted around the shower.

“My surprise is in here? We’re in the--” 

His jaw dropped, his hands lifting and his feet propelling him forward. He looked over his shoulder. Harry smirked at him, leaning against the wall with his arm around his stomach and his other hand cradling his chin. Louis tore his eyes away from Harry’s fond soaked face and looked forward, his hands lifting in the air.

“What is _this!?_ ”

Harry’s face ached as his smile grew. This summer Saturday was feeling more and more like a Christmas morning, except he got to watch Louis’ round arse bouncing with excitement instead of whatever holiday movie was on television.

“I fixed the shower.”

Louis twisted his torso around to gawk at Harry, his hands still lifted to cradle the air beside the shiny, steel device.

“Fixed?”

“Upgraded.”

“Upgraded?” Louis waved his hands up and down, his brows furrowed and his smile breaking into staccato laughter. “What is all this!?”

“A new shower head,” Harry’s chin jutted upwards, “and,” he pursed his lips into a small smile, “a hand shower.”

Louis’ lips moved without sound for a moment, his body frozen.

“You put this all in by yourself?”

“Yeah.” Harry stepped closer, his hands encircling the backs of Louis’ hips. “It was fun.”

Louis’ voice echoed in a laughed, “Fun?” He spun around, throwing his arms around Harry's neck. “Fun!?” He had to kiss Harry at that moment, just absolutely needed to taste his lips. “Are you crazy!?”

“My grandpa was a plumber, plus I watched a very helpful YouTube tutorial.” He smiled with Louis’ lips pressed firmly to his mouth. “Easy peasy.” 

“It looks so much more elaborate than the other one! And...” Louis turned and made circles with his hands near the shower head, staring at the slender handle that ran along the back of the hand shower. He brushed his fingers over the metal. “The design is perfect, as well.”

“It’s not really more elaborate, just a bit more...You,” Harry said, smiling wide. Louis looked at him, Harry running his fingers through the back of his own hair, his face and chest flushed and dappled pink. “I hoped you’d like the design.”

“Like?” Louis’ eyes bulged happily. “Love!” he giggled out. “It’s perfect!”

“They had it in a brass colour, but I thought the chrome was more you. The official name is,” Harry dropped his voice to a seductive whisper, “Starlight Chrome.”

“It is, it really is! It’s perfect! This is like--Like…” 

Louis trailed off, his heart racing. 

Sometimes, while out shopping for socks or moisturizer or toilet paper or birthday gifts for his sisters or carrots for dinner, he would wonder if anyone would ever know him well enough to buy him a gift that he truly, genuinely loved. A gift that was perfect for him, but that he didn’t have to spell out for the person that he wanted. 

His mum had managed to come close a couple of times, though she had an advantage as any football or art related gift was much appreciated by child Louis. Usually, when pressed for what to get him for Christmas, he would have to outline specifically what he was in need of and then hope that whatever family member was purchasing the gift bought something semi-related to the item he mentioned.

But this was something completely different.

“Christmas or something,” Louis said softly. He flattened his hand on the centre of his chest, staring up at the shiny chrome fixture. He swallowed thickly. “I’ve...I’ve never been so surprised in my life. Thank you so much. Thank you.”

Harry grinned, his dimple popping out and his teeth blazing bright white.

“Good.” He walked his fingertips down Louis’ stomach, brushing over the base of his cock. He sucked on the left side of his neck. “I like you surprised.”

Louis shuddered and reached behind himself, pulling Harry flush to his body. They’d been in the shower for quite a while without ever turning the water on, and having sex in a shower with the water off seemed like some sort of porn movie scene, but Louis could be flexible with Harry’s mouth sucking deep kisses on his neck, his fleshy palm wrapped around his cock.

The haze of pleasure settling over his body disappeared.

“Wait,” he spun around, his lips set in a straight line. He crossed his arms over his chest, his cock bobbing side to side. “How much was all this?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Louis took a step forwards, Harry’s brows rising as he stepped backwards. 

“I’m paying you back for it.”

“Like hell you are,” Harry laughed easily, putting his hands on his hips. “It’s a gift.” Louis opened his mouth, but Harry beat him by saying, “Tough tarts,” with an innocent smile. “Gifts are for giving.”

“Harry,” Louis said, gritting his teeth.

Harry giggled, “Louis,” and grit his teeth back at him. He growled, “Grrr,” and rubbed their noses together.

Louis flattened his hands on Harry’s stomach, his head flopping forward to hide his smile.

“Harry,” he said, softer, peering up at him. “How much was it?”

“Don’t worry about it. Your landlord said he’d reimburse up to the cost of the old one, so it really wasn’t bad at all. Think of it as a birthday gift.”

“My birthday is in December.” He tapped Harry’s navel with his thumbs. “It’s July, darling.”

“Yeah, well, I met you right after your last one. I just missed it. This can count for that.” Harry smiled crookedly. “A bit belated, my apologies.”

“You are absolutely crazy,” Louis said, on the brink of hysterical laughter. He shook his head, starting to laugh, Harry grinning and wrapping him in his arms. “Crazy!”

“Think of it as a benefit of dating a posh boy,” Harry said, his accent extra stuffy. Louis giggled and rubbed his face against Harry’s chest. “C’mon,” he said, moving them both towards the front of the shower. “Lemme show you a few of the bells and whistles.” 

Harry guided Louis’ hand behind the shower head. He pressed Louis’ fingers to a circular button, raised symbols barely visible on the light grey plastic material. Louis kept his eyes on Harry’s handsome, focused face, even while Harry directed his attention to the button beneath their fingers.

“This is a control button for the shower settings, so you don’t have to twist the head to change how the water flows. You can pick what setting you want using the button. Here,” Harry nudged their shoulders together, “I’ll show you.”

He turned on the water. A gentle spray started to fall from the flat head. Louis shut his eyes and exhaled a delighted, quiet laugh, Harry smiling along with him. 

“The shower head apparently aerates the water, which makes it softer,” Harry said, stepping back and flipping his hair off his forehead. “I learned lots about water pressure this week.” He ran his palms over his face, dragging his fingers back through his wet hair. He looked back to Louis and found him to be already looking at him, water streaming down his body. “What?”

“How are you real?” Louis asked, puzzled. He took his body wash off his shelf. “You’re like a supermodel who can fix showers and make brilliant baked goods and laughs at all my stupid jokes.”

“They’re not stupid,” Harry said, giggling. “You’re very funny. Try one of the settings.” He jutted his chin upwards. “They’re fun.”

Louis looked at the button and thumbed at random. The stream turned to a tumbling, natural flow of water, dousing his body and washing soap suds down the drain.

“Oh, I like that one the best, I think,” Harry said, joining him under the stream, both facing each other. “Waterfall.” Harry pushed his hair back, his eyes shut. “It’s so relaxing.”

Louis watched water, the softened water, apparently, run over Harry’s chest and race down the divots of his abs, which only brought his gaze to his endless legs and muscled thighs. The shower head was wide enough to douse both at the same time. 

Louis handed him his scent-free body wash, one brow raised.

“How many showers did you take in here to test it out?”

“No comment,” Harry said, fighting a smile and taking the bottle. “Shush.” He sucked his stomach in, Louis’ fingers wiggling against his navel. “I missed you.” 

They finished up the official washing part of their shower with ease, any trace of travel smelliness or dried come washed away. 

Harry took the hand shower off of its holder. 

“This has the most ridiculous massage settings.”

He showed Louis where the buttons were on the back of the handle and pressed once. Water started to throb out of the wand. He twirled his finger around, Louis turning and offering him his back. 

“Uh-uh-uh-uh,” Louis groaned out, his low voice broken by vibrations. He shut his eyes, leaning his hands against the wall, his head dropped forward. Waterfalls drenched his body while Harry moved the wand from shoulder blade to shoulder blade. “Oh-oh-oh-oh, fu-uh-uh-uh-uck me-ee-ee-ee.”

“My brilliant plot has worked,” Harry whispered, Louis laughing loudly. 

Louis turned around and took the hand shower from him. He studied the settings for a moment, then changed the stream to a pounding jet, directing it at Harry’s groin. Harry doubled over, letting out breathy laughs, his hands clasped over his cock. 

“That tickles there.”

Louis placed the hand shower back on it’s holder and turned it off.

“C’mere,” he said, wrapping an arm around Harry’s waist. 

Harry shuffled forward, still exhaling jumpy chuckles. He lowered his head, Louis cupping both of his cheeks.

“Thank you,” Louis said tenderly. He sucked a kiss to Harry’s lips, water dousing both of them. “Thank you so much. You...You’re...” 

He swallowed, then pressed their closed lips together, both of Harry’s arms hugging his lower back. 

“You’re so different than anyone I’ve ever met, different in the absolute best way.” Louis’ voice grew ever softer, his tone a shade higher. “In an unimaginable way. I can’t imagine my life without you and everything that you are and I’m so,” his voice wobbled almost unnoticeable, “so thankful.” He swallowed and smiled, his eyes crinkling up at Harry. “So, thank you. Truly.”

Harry’s gaze slowly traced over Louis’ face, his lips trembling to control his smile.

“You’re very welcome. And, all that you said, for me...It’s…” He huffed out a breath, as if he was both breathless and in possession of too much air in his lungs. “I’m…”

Louis kissed him slowly, using his lips to soothe the nervous twitches of Harry’s babbling mouth until Harry’s was pliant against him, humming into their kisses.

“More of a show than tell guy,” Louis said with a smile.

Harry’s mouth popped open, then shut, his lips pursing forward.

“More of a show than tell guy,” Harry repeated with furrowed brows, the words echoing back to a time together months in the past. “You know what I mean?”

A beat passed, their eyes locked.

Louis nodded once, his thumbs rubbing Harry’s wet cheekbones. The shower water pounded against the floor, bouncy splats of heavy drops landing on their shoulders.

“I do.” Louis pressed their lips together, Harry inhaling deeply through his nose. Louis smoothed his hair off his forehead, their lips still massaging. “And that’s absolutely fine.”

Harry whispered, “You don’t need me to tell you?” 

His voice blended with the drone of the shower water, Louis opening their lips in a deep, slow kiss.

“You show me how you feel every day that we’re together,” Louis said, kissing him again, Harry’s hands tightening on his arse. “Even days when we’re not together. You never have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. Or aren’t ready to.”

Harry exhaled a soft, quiet sound, a borderline whimper exhaled from his nose. Louis used his right hand to tilt the shower head to the side wall. He hit the control button, changing the stream to a more standard spray of a shower, and placed his flat hand on the centre of Harry’s chest.

Harry stepped backwards without any further instruction, the water hitting below his chin. Louis pressed against his front, his fingers lacing in the back of Harry’s hair.

“And you’re just fine at telling me how you feel,” Louis said, voice whispering over Harry’s lips. He held him against the wall. “Better than you give yourself credit for.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmm,” Louis hummed low in his throat, their lips melding slow and hot. His eyes danced with mischief. “Do you know what this new setup is perfect for?”

Harry shook his head, his gaze bobbing along with the movements of Louis’ lips.

“Two people to shower at the same time?”

Louis breathed, “Fuck me,” over Harry’s chin, their eyes locking before their lips seared together. Louis gripped Harry’s hips and pulled him against his body, grinding into him. “I have faith.”

“Fuck, yes,” Harry gasped out. “I, uh,” he looked over Louis’ head, “I can get us lube, just,” he held Louis’ shoulders and kissed his lips, “don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

Louis held Harry’s cock with his left hand, his right hand reaching to the shampoo shelf, Harry’s body boomeranging back to him. 

“Ta da.”

He handed Harry a bottle of Astroglide and sank to his knees, holding Harry’s hips with both hands.

“Oh, wow,” Harry said happily, reading the bottle. “I didn’t even know that was there.”

“I didn’t put it there for deep conditioning purposes.”

Harry’s answering laugh was cut off, a choked moan taking its place. He swayed on his feet, Louis’ mouth sucking him down to the base of his cock. 

“Fuck, Lou,” Harry gasped, dropping the lube to the floor. Louis snuffled as he sucked, his eyes smiling up at Harry and his cheeks hollowed. “I’ve only had my hand for the week.”

Breathless, torturous minutes later, including Harry having to endure Louis’ mouth on his cock while watching Louis finger himself at the same time, and Harry was hoisting Louis up against the wall, his hands under Louis’ arms.

“Your back,” Louis protested, his feet scrabbling on the sides of Harry’s legs. Harry’s hands squeezed behind Louis’ thighs, hitching him up. Louis wrapped his legs around him, using the wall for leverage. He gripped Harry’s hair, Harry pressing a hot, toe-curling kiss to his lips. “It’ll be too much.”

“Wrap your legs around me,” Harry drawled, his voice low. His left hand planted on the tile beside Louis’ head, his right arm looped around Louis’ arse. Two of his fingers pressed against Louis’ opening, Louis’ feet arching behind Harry’s back. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

“I can ride you on the bench or I--I can--” His legs tightened around Harry’s waist, their wet skin slippery. “We can--” He turned his head to bite Harry’s flexed bicep. Louis’ toes clenched, his thighs trembling around Harry’s hips. “Baby, I--I--” 

Louis’ arm slung around Harry’s neck as jolts of electricity surged through his veins. His fingernails dragged down his shoulder blade and dug into Harry’s back and he grunted out a high, throaty moan, his body stretching around Harry’s cock.

“Harry,” he gasped, looking down their joined bodies. 

He managed to watch Harry thrust up into him twice, all of Harry’s hard work on his abs causing a symphony of flexing, rolling muscles, Louis’ stomach tanner and less defined, but their skin sliding together with perfect, wet slickness. 

Louis’ eyes fluttered shut, his neck arching backwards to press the back of his head against the warm tile. A dull burn radiated from his arse, his body starting to slowly bounce up and down. Harry hissed near his ear, his face pressing into his neck.

“Oh, God, Harry,” Louis breathed out, squeezing his eyes shut tighter. He reached for Harry’s hair, his fingernails digging into his scalp. “Fuck, Harry, fucking--”

His other hand flattened on Harry’s upper back, his palm running over every inch of clenching, thrusting muscle and bone. Harry exhaled rhythmic grunts into his neck in time with each deep thrust, Louis’ voice growing higher and more breathless. 

Louis looked down Harry’s back, his arse clenching and the backs of his legs tightening each time he humped up, a quiet exhalation of, “Louis,” coinciding with each thrust. Harry lifted his face and pressed their lips together, his tongue diving into Louis’ panting mouth.

“I forgot to show you something,” Harry grunted out, his words muffled as Louis bit his bottom lip. Louis pecked him once. “I think you’ll like it.”

Louis blinked at him, water dripping off his eyelashes to land on Harry’s nose.

“Now?” he asked, his voice cracking. 

Harry reached behind himself with his right hand. His left arm still cradled Louis between the wall and his body. Louis watched Harry’s fingers press the control button.

The shower spray beating against their bodies seamlessly morphed into a fine mist of warm water. 

Louis’ jaw slackened, his round, wide eyes floating through the dreamy, mist filled shower. Harry held him with both arms and started to thrust again. He clenched around Harry’s cock, his heart throbbing rapid and jumpy in his chest, Harry moaning against his chin.

Harry brought their eyes level, smiling and running his fingers through Louis’ wet hair. 

“Like it?” he asked, brushing their lips together, Louis’ jaw still slack. “I hoped you would.”

“Fog,” Louis said, voice airy with disbelief. He brought his wide eyes to Harry’s smiling face, his mouth trembling wider. “You...You made fog. My--” 

Harry sped up his thrusts and Louis whimpered, their lips searing together as Louis’ body was propelled up the wall. 

Louis whispered, “My favourite,” and clung to him with both arms and legs, his face resting on Harry’s shoulder.

That full chest, swollen throat, throbbing heart feeling returned, almost overpowering the tightly wound orgasm coiling in his belly with each of Harry’s thrusts.

“You like it, petal?”

It was as if Christmas snow was replaced with gentle, beautiful, unreal July fog.

“I love it,” Louis gasped out, unblinking eyes glued to Harry’s face. “I absolutely love it, Harry.”

Harry grinned bashfully.

“I thought it would give us the most equal distribution of water to keep us warm.” Cheekiness overpowered any sign of bashfulness. “I also figured it would be the best way to have sex in here.”

Louis giggled then moaned, “Oh, God,” while writhing against the tiles. He hugged Harry tighter. “Fuck, Harry, this feels so--You feel fucking--Fucking amazing!” He shouted the last word of his sentence, his head lolling on his neck, Harry’s mouth sucking the dip of his throat. “Your cock’s gonna get sick of the inside of my mouth. I’m gonna blow you so much for this.”

The cheekiness of Harry’s smile evaporated into the fog, masculine pride taking its place. He pressed his face into the darkened, wet hair dusting the centre of Louis’ chest. He licked water off Louis’ right nipple, Louis shivering in his arms.

“Told you we could make it work,” Harry murmured, big eyes smiling up at Louis as he bit his nipple. 

“You did, you totally--Ah!” Louis’ hand grappled the tile above his head, his palm slapping the wall, his back arching wickedly. Harry buried his face in his neck, growling and pressing deep kisses up to his ear. “You totally did! Oh, fucking, Christ!” Louis cried out and twisted in Harry’s arms, his body riding Harry’s cock in their standing position. “You totally did!”

**///////////////**

“How many times do I have to tell you that you need to keep a charger at work if you refuse to upgrade to a new phone?”

“Dunno,” Liam breezed, fishing his keys from his pocket. “How many times do you have to tell me?”

Zayn patted Liam’s arse, 

“Cheeky.”

“Mmm,” Liam unlocked the door, jutting his arse backwards, “may I have another, sir? Harder, sir?”

Zayn leaned on the wall beside the door, resting the side of his head on the wall.

“Ugh, I love you.”

Liam smiled and pinched Zayn’s collar between his fingers, dragging him through the open door. Their shoes cluncked loudly on the floor, their legs tangling as they walked inside. Zayn backed up against the door, shutting it, Liam glued to his front.

“I’ll be just a moment,” Liam said. He firmly pressed their lips together, Zayn’s thumbs looping into the waistband of his jeans. “Then we can head out.”

“‘Kay,” Zayn sighed out, his hair flopping in his eyes.

Liam jogged into his bedroom, Zayn strolling towards the kitchen table. He opened the refrigerator, pushing beer bottles and old Chinese food containers aside. 

“Did I leave my Nike hoodie at yours?” Liam’s voice said from his bedroom’s direction. "The black one?"

“Uh,” Zayn shut the refrigerator, “yeah. Think so.”

“Okay.”

Liam came out of his bedroom.

“By you bringing your charger to mine, you’re simply shuffling your single charger back and forth,” Zayn said, moving towards the front door. “We should buy you one for my place.”

Liam’s nose wrinkled as he shouldered a black duffle bag.

“That’s a waste of money.”

“A waste of money?” Zayn laughed, his brows arched high. He leaned one hand against the door. “You’re going to leave your charger at my place. That’s a legitimate fact. Then you'll be stuck without one here, like a cycle of telephonic death.”

“Such dramatics. You don’t know that.”

There was a soft thud from Louis’ side of the flat. Zayn and Liam looked down the hallway to his closed bedroom door, another thud sounding from behind it.

“Oh,” Liam said. “I didn’t know Louis was....”

Another two thuds were accompanied by a quiet, whimpered sound, followed by a drawn out noise that was low in tone. The thuds got closer together, the strange noises growing in volume.

Both Zayn and Liam froze. The mixture of sounds pinged their ears. Prickly heat rushed up the backs of their necks.

Zayn's eyes went round, his long lashes fluttering.

"Is that--"

"Shhh," Liam hissed.

He held his hand over Zayn's mouth.

The rhythmic pounding of a headboard against a wall filled the flat. It was like a bizarre aural train crash, both frozen in place and afraid to draw attention to their presence, while also unable to stop listening to the soundtrack from behind Louis’ closed door.

Louis could be heard moaning, Harry's answering groan quiet but present. Harry said something, which was followed by Louis moaning even louder, a broken, unruly howl, as if he tried to reply in words but only gutteral sounds could come out. 

The banging sped up.

Louis' moans went breathy, his voice shouting, "Fuck yeah, Harold, that's what I'm fucking talking about!"

Zayn’s nose exhaled rapid breaths, his mouth buzzing against Liam’s hand. His eyes flicked to Liam, his cheeks aching from pent up laughter.

"I've never heard Louis have sex," Liam whispered, his eyes, so weary and distant, glued to the bedroom door.

Zayn pushed his hand off his mouth. He started to laugh, coughing between throaty gasps to breathe. 

"Never?"

Liam shook his head, his cheeks flushed, his lips twitching into a small smile.

"Nah. Never."

"You've lived together for years! How the fuck is that possible?"

Liam put his hand over Zayn’s mouth again.

"He's too polite. Or shy. Private. He's like a spy or a ninja whenever he brings someone back. I've never even heard him wank, he's so quiet."

Zayn licked his palm and Liam sighed, rubbing his hand on his jeans.

"Ninja sex? Let's try that," Zayn said, nudging his fingers into Liam’s stomach. Liam stifled a laugh, squirming away. "Is that why he always knows when you're staying at my place?"

"Mmhmm," Liam hummed. “I think he even has an iCal colour dedicated to times when the flat will be empty and he can make noise.” He squinted at the ceiling, tapping his chin. “I bet he picked purple. Maybe yellow, since sex is a cheerful event.”

"Were you actively listening to hear him come?"

Liam's face went screwy, his eyes bulging at Zayn.

"No, of course not," he hissed, horrified. "Fuck, don't talk about Louis coming. Don't say Louis and come in the same sentence. I'm thrilled for his sexual health, but have no interest in the details."

"Would you prefer climax?"

"No!"

"How about orgasm?"

"We're never having sex again."

“Did you just refer to sex as cheerful?”

Bare feet padding on the floor were too quiet to break up their whispered discussion. A tall shadow stretching towards them made both stop hissing, their eyes blinking in unison at the end of the hallway.

"Oh," Harry said after a beat, smiling at the frozen duo. "Uh, hey, guys." He waved, the tip of his dick peeking out the left leg of his boxers. “Didn’t know you were here.” His legs started to stride forward, his palm smoothing circles on his stomach. "Alright?"

A black Muse t-shirt was tied around his hair as a headband, the material wound around his head and knotted in the back, his hair piled on top. Pale blue boxers, that looked a size or two small, served as nothing more than a tight fabric loincloth to cover his middle.

"Hi," Liam said, waving back, his arm jerky. "Uh, yeah, we're," he looked to Zayn, "alright."

Zayn bit his bottom lip, more laughter bubbling inside.

"What's up?" Zayn asked, cool and casual as if Harry's penis wasn't visible to all three of them.

"Not much," Harry said, shrugging one shoulder, satisfaction smoothing the features of his smiling face. He pointed towards the refrigerator. "Getting water."

"Oh, yeah, 'course," Liam said quickly, jumping away into the living room. "I came, I mean," Zayn snorted into his fist, "I returned here for my charger. Phone charger."

Harry started to walk but smiled slowly at him, his eyes squinting in confusion.

"You alright, man?"

"You're enormous," Liam blurted out.

"Liam!" Zayn exclaimed, his body doubled over from sudden, silent laughter. “Fuck, oh God,” he gasped out, leaning his bum on the kitchen table.

Harry's expression was as easy as ever, his eyes relaxing and his dimple popping out.

"Why, thank you, Liam.” He looked down at himself and winced, offering them an apologetic smile. “Ah. Sorry.” He pointed at his boxers with his left hand, pulling the material lower with his right hand. The adjustment only made his hip dents more prominent, the length of his torso longer, the dark hair of his groin on display. “These are Lou’s and they’re,” he turned away from them, his leg hitching, “a little small. Threw them on quick.” He snapped the waistband against his stomach. “There was a chill in the air.”

"I meant, like,” Liam swirled his hand in the air in front of his face, palm facing Harry, “everything. Like, you’re really tall.” He started to back away with his hands still raised. “You have enormous legs. And your shoulders. So broad.” His legs bumped into the coffee table, Harry and Zayn watching Liam float into a completely different room while still rambling. “I didn’t mean only your cock, of course.”

Harry echoed, “Of course,” and nodded seriously.

“Though that’s a pretty nice size,” Zayn said from his perch against the kitchen table, his arms crossed over his chest. He touched just below his collar bones with a delicate hand. “If I may say.”

“Cheers, mate,” Harry smiled over his shoulder, the refrigerator illuminating his torso. “It’s funny," he pulled out one water bottle, "my parents are both fairly normal sized. Dunno where I got my height from. My sister is kind of tall, too.”

“It suits you,” Zayn said.

“Aren’t we the almost the same height, though?” Harry asked Liam, looking him up and down. He glanced at Zayn, winking almost too fast to notice, Zayn pressing his fist to his lips. He directed his attention back to Liam. “C’mere, Li. We can go back to back.” He started to smile, perfect teeth revealed. “I don’t bite.”

Liam’s face went bright red.

“I’ll go back to back with you, Hot Legs,” Zayn said, moving towards Harry. 

“We should actually get going,” Liam said. He walked quickly to Zayn and snagged him with an arm around the waist, spinning him around, Harry and Zayn’s eyes crinkling at each other. “Have errands to run. Things to do.”

“Alright, then,” Harry said, a bottle of water in each hand. He kicked the refrigerator shut. “You guys wanna do dinner later? I think Lou and I are going to yoga in a couple of hours, but then we’re meeting up with Niall and Ed and a few band guys for sushi.” Harry itched his stomach with one of the bottles, a drop of water trickling down his navel to melt into the waistband of his boxers. “It's an all-you-can-eat place and Niall's starved himself all day to prep. I mean,” Harry shifted his weight to his left leg, “I think he ate breakfast and lunch, but cut out his snacks, which is monumental for him."

“Sushi is great,” Liam said, holding onto Zayn’s coat pocket. “We can. Yes. Dinner works. Sushi.”

“Sounds good. Text us the address and time,” Zayn said, Liam pulling him by his belt loop. “We’ll be there.”

“Will do,” Harry drawled, striding across the kitchen. He smiled at them, backing down Louis’ bedroom hallway. “Have fun running errands.”

“Why are you suddenly so terrified of Harry?” Zayn whispered, watching Harry’s back disappear down the hall. “Your panini press is more terrifying than he is.”

“I don’t fancy seeing the actual cock that was probably just inside my best mate’s actual arse,” Liam whispered back.

“How do you know Lou was bottoming?”

Liam opened the front door.

“This conversation is over.”

"Hey, Haz?” Zayn ask, his voice a normal volume.

The shuffling of bare feet on hardwood stopped, then started again, Harry emerging from the hall. He checked over his shoulder, then stepped closer to the kitchen, smiling at Liam and Zayn. 

“Yeah?”

“How come you’re not, like,” Zayn nudged one shoulder forward, “being all private? I figured you two would lose it if you knew someone heard you.”

Harry shifted his weight to his left leg, his right knee bent. His cock slipped out the bottom of his pants, Liam directing his eyes at the ceiling.

“You know, normally, you’d be right and I’d probably be a bit bashful. But, mates," he started to laugh his words, "you just saw my cock."

“Can currently see your cock,” Liam muttered under his breath, earning a nudge in the ribs.

Harry’s stomach muscles fluttered, his face rosy. 

"You're both sharp. You know what’s going on."

“And Lou?” Liam asked, eyebrows arched.

Louis’ voice chose that moment to break into the room.

“Are you getting us water or what? Come back. I’m not done with you yet.”

Harry's eyes softened, his lips tilting higher on the right side. He brought his left knee inwards, curling his toes against the floor. He looked downright boyish, if not for the thick outline of his cock visible through his boxers.

“I’ll tell him. No worries.”

“Alright, then. Excellent,” Liam said quickly, prodding Zayn’s lower back. “We’ll see you at dinner. Have a nice, uh, whatever. Bye bye.”

Harry chuckled and waved both bottles of water at them. The front door clicked shut. He walked down the bedroom hallway. He opened the door with both bottles balanced in his arms, quietly shutting it behind himself.

He looked towards the bed and smiled.

“Hello, there,” he said, tossing one bottle at the bed. “Feeling a bit tired? A bit worn out?”

It rolled to the centre of the mattress, bumping into Louis’ bare ribs. Louis groaned and moved his feet over the mussed sheets, the rest of his limbs motionless.

“Thought you weren’t done with me?” 

“Maybe I just missed you,” Louis mumbled.

Harry brushed the arch of Louis’ right foot with the chilly end of his water bottle. Louis’ nose released a high pitched, pained sound, his ankle rolling on the mattress.

“I can’t move,” Louis whispered, voice raspier than usual. “Too fucked.” His throat bobbed to swallow, his stomach ballooning out. He exhaled, his eyes fluttering open. His gaze warmed Harry’s face, his kiss-swollen lips curving into a sleepy smile. “Christ, you can throw down.”

Harry knelt on the end of the bed, gaze traveling up Louis’ legs. His eyes lingered for a beat on Louis’ groin, his cock resting against his upper thigh. The hair dusting the middle of his body was damp with sweat, each of Louis’ calm breaths causing the hair under his navel to tremble.

He started to crawl higher, straddling Louis’ hips, his hands planted on the pillow on either side of Louis’ face. Louis smiled up at him, his darkened hair slicked back off his forehead, save for a few wild wavy pieces licking beneath his ears.

Harry leaned down, letting his mouth open wetly on top of Louis’ lips, simply tasting him with lazy, barely-there sucks. He felt Louis’ thighs flex beneath him, Louis humming ever so quietly through his nose, his fingertips twitching from their spot above his head.

The room went silent, Louis’ hot breaths panting into Harry’s mouth, the sheets around Louis’ ears crackling under Harry’s clenching fingers. Harry let his head bob upwards an inch, then gave him another plush kiss, Louis curling his toes while Harry’s tongue teased along the seam of his lips.

“So pliant,” Harry whispered before sucking ever so lazily on Louis’ bottom lip. They made a muted click when they separated, Harry licking his own lips. “Soft. Sweet.”

Louis purred, “You can do whatever you want to me,” his dazed eyes glued to Harry’s mouth.

Harry smiled, his eyes amused. He kissed the front of Louis’ shoulder, pressing firm kisses along his collarbone until he reached his neck, warm and still slightly sweaty.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Louis stretched his neck, pushing the back of his head into his pillow. “‘M powerless.” He smiled with his eyes shut, Harry’s lips suckling the fleshy dip of his throat. “At your mercy.” Their lips joined with an equally delicate suck. “All yours.”

“I like the sound of that.”

A barely there touch ghosted the dip beside his nipple and Louis giggled lightly, his right arm bending at the elbow. His laughter was muffled by a kiss, Harry’s body flattening on top of him.

“Feels so good,” Louis said, stretching and pushing up against Harry’s weight. “You’re so warm. And my pants look smashing on you.”

Harry snuffled against Louis’ jawline.

“So.” Harry propped himself up on his elbow. His fingers ran through the front of Louis’ hair. “Liam and Zayn were home just now.”

Louis blinked and his eyes grew rounder, his brows arched.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. They, uh," the corners of Harry's mouth twitched, his face warm, "heard us.”

Louis laughed suddenly, the noise bubbling out of his wide mouth and his eyes lit with surprise. Harry’s brows shot up, though he started to chuckle along with the infectious sound.

“Wow, you’re not upset?”

“Upset that they know that my smokin’ hot boyfriend gave me a proper rogering for lunch? Uh, no,” Louis giggled, dabbing tears from under his left eye. He relaxed his arms on the pillow behind his head. “I’m not upset.”

Quietly, Harry added, “They also saw my cock a couple of times,” which only pulled more machine gun laughter from Louis, his body shaking underneath Harry’s weight. “Which I think traumatised Liam.”

“Oh my God, stop!” Louis laughed out, gasping for breath, holding his stomach. “Please,” he giggled for a few seconds, huffing breaths, “I’m dying! I think I’ve caught your asthma.”

“Zayn called me Hot Legs.”

Louis curled on his side as much as he could with Harry on top of him, both of their laughter rivaling their moans in volume.

“I hope you like water sports,” Louis choked out, still laughing, “because if you don’t stop talking, I’m going to piss myself.”

…

**in the hall, lovely xx**

Louis’ eyebrows rose, his black dress shoes slapping faster against Simone’s hardwood lobby floor. He looked up and saw Harry’s back through the glass wall, Harry swaying his hips side to side, earbuds hanging from his ears. Louis pushed the door open. He pulled one ear bud out, the white cable tumbling down Harry’s black tee.

“How on earth did you get in?”

Harry spun, music buzzing from his headphones. He grinned and pulled the other ear bud out. He had a white paper bag in his right hand, a metal thermos in his other.

“Marco from security is a sucker for extra fudgy brownies,” Harry said, holding the items out. “He let me up without question.”

“What’s all this?” Louis asked, accepting the thermos and bag. “I thought you made chicken soup?”

“I did.” He pointed at the paper bag. “This is soup, hot off the stove and with Niall’s seal of cold-suffering approval. And this,” he pointed at the thermos, “is tummy tea, a specialty of mine.”

“Tummy tea?” Louis asked on a giggle, screwing the top off. He sniffed the steam rising off, his eyes fluttering shut. “Smells like...Like that tea we get whenever we have Indian.”

“It’s got turmeric in it and a few other weird ingredients that are sort of natural remedies. Coconut milk. Ginger. Pinch of cinnamon.”

Louis opened his eyes, smiling with steam brushing his chin. He screwed the cap back on.

“One of your health potions?”

“I promise,” Harry stepped closer, his hand flattening on Louis’ stomach, “it’ll help you feel better. Soup, too.” Louis brushed a kiss to Harry’s Adam’s apple, their faces tilting for the barest press of their lips together. “It’s pretty mild. Will be easy on the belly.”

“This,” Louis stepped back and wiggled the thermos, “isn’t gonna make me, like...” He mock-vomited, his shoulders hunching and his eyes bulging. “Is it?”

“No,” Harry chuckled. “It’s not that kind of potion.” He rubbed his hand in a circle over the tight muscles, studying Louis’ stomach. “I hope you didn’t catch Niall’s cold.”

Louis’ fingers dug into the fleshy front of his throat to scratch, his short nails clicking on his three-day stubble.

“I think it’s just stress, to be honest.” He rubbed his palm over his lips, slapping his lips together. “A deadline week of late nights and bad take-out has caught up to me.”

Harry reached out, gripping Louis’ royal blue tie and straightening it.

“What was on the menu tonight?”

“Italian.”

“Yikes.” He smoothed his palms over Louis’ white shirt collar. “Acidic.”

“Yep.” Louis looked over his shoulder, no other employees in sight. “I can’t exactly tell my boss I don’t want free posh Italian food because I have a tummy ache.” He started to yawn, his mouth stretched wide. “I wasn’t going to eat at all.”

“That simply wouldn’t do,” Harry said, tutting his tongue. “You need your strength. Why don’t you come to mine later?” His dimple popped, his voice soft to add, “Let me take care of you.”

“I’m not…” Louis’ eyes narrowed, dropping to the floor. He smiled shyly. “I’m not really in the best shape to...Erm...”

“No, not to--” Harry chuckled and shook his head. He stroked Louis’ forearm, just below the cuffed sleeve of his shirt. “I meant to come by and, like,” his voice dropped, “have a cuddle.”

Louis’ shy smile grew, his eyes crinkling up at Harry.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, definitely. Just let yourself in whenever and crawl into bed.”

Louis looked over his shoulder again.

“You’ll probably be asleep by the time I get out of here.”

Harry brushed his fingers down the left side of Louis’ neck, drawing his gaze back towards himself.

“That’s alright. That’s what keys are for and--Shit,” he held out the vowel, his hand dropping from Louis’ neck, his eyes flashing brighter. “Simon is--”

“Hello there, Chef Harry Styles,” Simon said from behind Louis, the glass door whispering shut. “You’re not the pizza boy.” He came up beside Louis, slinging his arm around his shoulders. He eyed Harry. “Secret delivery?”

Before Louis could explain, Harry’s calm voice poured over them, echoing around the vast hallway.

“I made soup for my flatmate and was in the area,” Harry said, holding his hand out. “Thought I’d drop some for Louis.” Simon’s eyes squinted for a beat, but his hand joined with Harry’s. “A pleasure to see you again, Mr. Cowell.”

“Yes, yes. Our number one footie fan,” Simon said, his voice even more playful. Louis’ stomach growled, Harry’s cheeks tinting pink. Simon grinned, clapping his other hand over the top of Harry’s hand. “Yes, lovely to see you, as well. And, please, call me Simon.”

“Simon. Great. Well,” Harry lifted himself up on the balls of his feet, “I’ve got an early morning tomorrow, so I’d best be off.” He held Simon’s gaze and smiled, something twinkling in his eyes. “There’s a little gift in there for you, too.” His right eyelid flickered shut, Louis’ lips popping open and his head tilting. “Might come in handy when you get home after a late night in the office.”

“Thank you,” Simon said slowly, studying Harry for one long beat. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

“Of course.” Harry looked at Louis, who most definitely needed to ingest soup and tea as soon as possible. His face was flattened by shock, his eyes stuck wide. Simon took his paper bag from him, Louis still staring at Harry. The crunching noise brought Harry’s attention back to Simon. “Have a great night.”

“Yes, chef, you too,” Simon said, opening the paper bag. “Thanks for dropping by. See you very soon.”

Harry pushed the door of the stairwell open. With Simon distracted, he was able to smile at Louis over his shoulder and mouth, “Bye,” dragging out the vowel even though he was not actually saying the word. He rubbed his own stomach, his lips ghosting, “Feel better,” before the door clicked shut.

“That brilliant little minx,” Simon exclaimed, pulling out a small mint green box. He flipped the top open and gasped, slapping Louis with the bag. Louis held the bag to his chest. “Simone is going to lose it.” He pointed at six perfectly square chocolates inside the box, white as snow with a caramel heart drizzled diagonally over the smooth top. “I don’t think he’s even released these to the public yet,” Simon said, voice bubbling with excitement. “White chocolate?”

“Oh, right,” Louis said, nodding. 

He studied Harry’s chocolates, their taste fresh on his tongue. He didn’t love sweets, but he also didn’t mind playing taste tester for his boyfriend when each taste came paired with a kiss (even if it meant learning how long it took to sterilize a professional grade bakery kitchen up to Harry’s standards).

“He mentioned experimenting a bit. Trying to make a lighter version since it’s summer. I think it’s kind of as heavy, but,” Louis shrugged, “what do I know. He’s the chef, I just do the eating.”

Simon smiled with his lips shut, his cheek puffed out and his jaw chewing.

“I’ll bet,” he said around a mouthful of chocolate. He held the box out, Louis looking anywhere but his employer’s smirking face. “You want one?” 

“No, I’m good, thanks.” Louis took his key card out of his pocket, thumbing towards the office. “I should get back--”

“You know,” Simon said, lifting the thin wax paper covering the chocolates. “We did that enormous campaign for Tiffany’s last year,” the paper crinkled beneath his fingers, “and Cartier a couple of years before that. They’d both probably give you a great deal if you were in the market for jewelry.” He popped another chocolate in his mouth, chewing and smiling at Louis with his lips shut. His tongue darted over his inner bottom lip. “A couple of rings or something.”

Louis laughed, walking towards the glass door. He swiped himself inside, still laughing, his laughter verging on hysterical huffs of frantic breath.

“I need to go eat my soup and get back to work.”

“What?” Simon laughed, holding his arms away from his body. “It’s just a friendly tip. I’m only looking out for your bank account, Tomlinson!”

…

The blaring wail of a car alarm ripped through the open window of Louis’ bedroom. Harry’s body shot up in bed, his eyes wide open in the darkness, the duvet crumpled on his lap. His chest heaved, his hand fumbling for the bedside table. He picked up his watch and studied the face of it, blinking slowly. He exhaled and laid on his back, his watch still clutched between his fingers.

“Bloody new neighbours,” Louis mumbled, sliding his left arm over Harry’s stomach. He hitched the duvet up, huffing. “Every morning it’s like they forget how to operate their car.”

“For fuck’s sake, turn off the fucking alarm!” came from somewhere in the neighbourhood, a dog barking in rhythm with the honks.

Louis chuckled, half asleep, and relaxed on top of Harry’s chest. The alarm stopped beeping, the room silent again.

Harry took a few calming breaths, stroking the soft hair on Louis’ forearm, studying the early morning shadows that slid across the ceiling. He listened to the easy sound of Louis’ breathing, warm breaths puffing against his chest. The curtains blew into the room, a cool breeze pricking his skin. 

He placed his watch on the bedside table and hit the home button on his iPhone. The screen remained black.

“Do you have a charger plugged in on this side?” he asked, his voice gruff. 

“Mmmm.” 

Louis’ hand lifted from under the duvet, his fingers flicking in the direction of Harry’s bedside table. Harry rolled onto his side and reached behind the table, feeling for a plug. Louis shifted behind him, settling his palm on Harry's stomach, the tip of his nose brushing the back of his neck. 

Soft fingertips stroked the hair beneath Harry’s navel. Each easy touch erased any thoughts of his dead phone from his brain. He curled up, nudging his arse backwards, his face rubbing against his pillow.

“Lou,” he purred, smiling to himself.

His eyelids felt too heavy to keep open, his hands tinging too much to grip his mobile. His phone clunked on the bed, his head lolling on the the pillow.

Louis yawned out, “Have at it.”

“What?” Harry whispered, half asleep.

“Phone?”

“Hm?”

Louis laughed quietly.

“Charge your phone.” He pulled the duvet higher, licking his lips. He nestled his face in Harry’s hair. “You’re like an old man sometimes, I swear.”

“Ohhh,” Harry drawled, still not moving, “right.”

He clucked one small snore.

“Harry.”

“Right, right.”

He stretched to the edge of the bed and located a thin, white cable looped through a small gap at the back of the bedside table. He fumbled to plug his iPhone in. The new chargers were so tiny, especially when sleepy fingers struggled to grip such a small plug. The shift of his body caused Louis to flatten on the mattress on his stomach, his face pressed against the seam of Harry’s side and the bed.

“Your house is like Iron Man's place,” Harry murmured, smiling at the spurts of air exhaled out of Louis' nose against his ribs. Louis' arm wrapped around him from behind, warm lips pressing kisses up his lower spine. “All tech-savvy and Bluetooth speakers and hidden iPhone charger cables.”

“Maybe I. Am. Iron Man.”

Harry settled on his side, nudging his bum backwards against Louis’ bare hips.

“I'm going to avoid making a joke about your cock being Iron Man or something like that.” Harry pulled the duvet up to his nipples. “We're both too tired.”

“Thank you,” Louis whispered, kissing the base of Harry's neck, smiling at Harry's little laugh muffled by his pillow. His wavy hair tickled his nose. “What time is it, anyway?”

Harry watched his dead phone come to life. He read aloud, “Five-oh-three,” once it was illuminated on the screen, then shut his eyes. “S’early.”

“More snuggles?” Louis whispered. “My alarm’s set for eight.”

“Perfect.”

Louis watched the curtains flutter until his his vision went fuzzy. Harry’s deep snores droned so rhythmically, so even, that the sound lulled him to sleep in a matter of seconds. 

Harry’s phone rang on the bedside table, marimba cutting through the air and vibrations buzzing the table top. Louis groaned and rolled onto his back, pulling the duvet over his face, his feet squirming and kicking at the bottom of the bed.

“Sorry, sorry, Lou,” Harry said, reaching out. “So sorry.”

His eyes were unfocused, thumb searching for the nub on the side of his phone. He silenced it and flipped the screen down. 

He turned onto his stomach and lifted a corner of the duvet.

“Oh, Louis,” he sang, his quiet voice pleasantly rough. He lifted more of the blankets, fingers sliding over the mattress. “Is there a Louis in here?”

He smiled, drawn closer by a high-pitched, muffled giggle. His fluttering fingers found the warm skin of Louis’ stomach, more laughter released into the blankets.

Louis held his arm out straight, his eyes scrunched almost shut while he smiled. His position left the perfect space for Harry to burrow. Harry pressed his face into his neck, the duvet pulled over both of their heads. Their skin smelled warm and slightly spicy, the scent amplified by their blanket cocoon.

“Bunny, bunny, bunny.”

Louis’ moved his eyes under his closed lids.

“What…” His eyes opened to slits, sliding his gaze in the direction of the soft, repeated murmur. “Was that?” 

“The noise a sleepy bunny makes when he’s getting comfortable.” Harry cracked one eye open and lifted his face, smiling crookedly. “Duh.”

“Of course,” Louis said into his hair on a breathy laugh. He kissed Harry’s forehead. He palmed down the back of his hair. “Night, bunny, bunny, bunny.”

Harry settled his face down.

“Night.”

Louis tightened his arm over Harry’s back, even breaths puffing over his neck. He could register Harry’s quiet snore starting. It was a different snore than his deep sleep snore, a lighter, wheezed sound. A tiny blip of drool warming the skin beneath Harry’s lips.

Vibrations buzzed against the table.

Harry popped up, face bewildered, hair covering the right side of his face. Louis opened his eyes and laughed, pushing Harry’s hair off his forehead. Harry kissed Louis’ nose, pecking his lips.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, rolling over. “I thought I silenced it.”

His lower body remained pressed against Louis’ legs, his torso curved sideways, his elbows resting on the edge of the bed.

“S’okay,” Louis said. He rubbed his palm up to Harry’s shoulder blades, thumbing down the bumps of his ribs. “Is it your mum? I hope everything’s okay.”

Harry was silent, as was his phone, his body motionless. 

“Harry?”

“Huh.”

Harry sounded more awake than ever, though he offered no other comment. Louis leaned on his forearm, lifting himself, his hand squeezing Harry’s shoulder. The duvet crinkled down to their hips.

“What’s up?”

Harry rolled onto his back, his phone balanced between both hands. He squinted at the lit screen, his lips plumped forward.

“Helena…”

Louis’ ears prickled, his heart rate speeding up.

“What? What’s wrong? Is she alright?”

“Yeah, no. Nothing,” Harry blurted out, shaking his head. “Helena’s fine. She was, uh,” his voice slowed nearly to a stop, eyes still on the screen, “calling me.”

“At this hour?” Louis’ nose wrinkled, his face flopping down to his pillow. He rubbed Harry’s stomach. “I thought you’re off today?”

“I...Am. I am off.”

Louis kicked his shin.

“C’mon, you’re scaring me. Talk to me.”

“No, it’s fine,” Harry breathed out. “Not...Nothing to be scared about. I...” 

He laid down, both sharing the same pillow. Louis rolled onto his back, his head tilting sideways to rest the sides of their heads together. Harry’s hands held his mobile flat, facing the screen towards them. 

“I, uh, was nominated for a couple of awards, actually.”

Louis’ eyes brightened.

“What?”

“Yeah,” Harry exhaled, awed. He looked at the screen again, angling it so Louis could read. “This is the official email.” He scrolled with his middle finger. “It’s the London Food and Wine Awards.”

“Oh, shit!” Louis laughed and rolled half onto Harry. “I’ve heard of those! Simone advertises with them.”

“Yeah, they’re…They’re...”

“They’re a big deal!” Louis bounced his shoulder into him. “Harry!” He rubbed his feet on Harry’s shins, laying rapid kisses over his neck, Harry laughing throatily. “This is amazing!” Louis settled on his back and swirled his pointer finger near the phone screen. “C’mon, old man, scroll faster. I wanna see your nominations!”

“Best Young Chef,” Harry read aloud, scrolling faster, their eyes scanning left to right. “And,” he took a deep breath, “Pastry Chef of the Year,” his eyes went wide, “which is--”

“Yeeeaaaah!” 

Louis whooped and rolled onto Harry, kissing all over his face. Harry laughed louder, the bed bouncing beneath him. 

“We’re going to wake the neighbours!”

“Who cares? You’re going to win!” Louis shouted, holding Harry’s face with both hands. He pressed a hot kiss to his mouth, both smiling and groaning into another kiss. Louis kissed him three more times, his sucked, smooch noises growing louder with each one. “I’m so excited for you!”

Harry dropped his phone to the bed and wrapped his arms around Louis’ waist. He stroked Louis’ cheek, his inner thigh pressing Louis’ legs to the mattress. His smiling eyes lowered to his throat, fingertips circling the faint dip. His gaze flicked up to Louis’ face, his hair falling over his eyes, his smile bashfully widening.

“Will you be my date for the ceremony?” 

“Oh, I dunno. Not sure if I can make it,” Louis said, shrugging his right shoulder. Harry’s jaw dropped with a gasp of laughter, his eyes shocked. Louis flipped their position, straddling Harry’s hips. “It’s only going to be an amazing event with free booze and gourmet food and the sexiest, most talented chef in the entire world.” He dug his fingers into Harry’s stomach, Harry loudly giggling and squirming into him. "So I guess I could try to make an appearance.”

Their lips slammed together, giddiness heating their blood and surging through their bodies. Louis got onto his knees, keeping his palms on Harry’s chest. He stood on the bed with one foot on either side of Harry’s hips.

“What’s this?” Harry asked, his eyes bobbing up and down, Louis’ cock swinging between his legs. 

“C’mon, get up. We’re awake now,” Louis said, holding a hand out. Harry lightly scratched the tops of Louis’ toes, Louis lifting his leg and hopping onto the other foot. “Up, up, up, chef of the year!”

Harry pulled the duvet up to his chin, batting his eyelashes.

“What about snuggles?”

“Snuggles later. Let’s go running! I’m actually volunteering to go running! Madness!” 

Louis started to hop on the bed, throwing his hands up in the air to balance each bounce. Harry picked up his phone and angled it upwards. 

“Can I document this event?”

“You can document whatever you want, gorgeous. But get up!” Louis did a rock star leg split in the air. His feet thunked next to Harry’s shins. “I wanna get you sweaty before we take a shower. Extra dirty before I get you extra clean. And boy,” he did a spin in the air mid-jump, “am I gonna get dirty for you this morning.” 

He smiled wider down at Harry, one hand over his heart, his hair swaying with each jump. 

“God, I’m so proud of you, Harry. Seriously.” He tried to catch his breath, but couldn’t help the fond, shaky tone in his voice. “I’m so, so happy for you. You deserve everything.” His hand clenched on his chest. “Absolutely everything good.”

“Aw, Lou,” Harry said. His face was blocked by his phone, but he sounded equally as winded as Louis, though he wasn’t jumping on a bed. “You’re making me blush!”

Louis grinned and waved down at him, his cock swinging up to slap his stomach. He spun mid-jump, swaying his arse side to side.

“Make sure you get my good side for your little movie.”

…

Liam shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing himself through his baggy gray sweats. He pulled a white ceramic bowl out of the cabinet above the sink, reaching higher for a black plastic Batman bowl.

Warm arms wrapped around him a split second before Zayn’s voice stroked, “Morning, my love,” over the back of his neck, goosebumps breaking out over his entire body.

“You’re up early,” Liam said, leaning back into him. Zayn pressed his lips beneath his ear, stubble causing even more goosebumps to prickle his skin. “Tea?”

“I’ll get it started.”

Zayn nudged his nose against the back of Liam’s neck then stepped away, lightly brushing his fingers up his lower spine. He filled the kettle and nudged the sink off with his fist. He plopped it on the stove top and turned on the heat. He walked to the kitchen table and sat heavily in a chair, resting his face on his folded arms. He blinked at the front door, noting a path of trainers and socks leading down Louis’ hallway.

“Did they get up already?” Zayn asked, itching the front of his throat.

Liam poured corn flakes into the Batman bowl with his left hand and held his right index finger in the air, his back to Zayn. Zayn looked towards Louis’ closed bedroom door. 

For a moment, there was the noise of a shower running in the distance. Zayn opened his mouth, intending to comment on the early hour, then let his lips snap shut, Liam snuffling laughter.

“Oh, they’re up,” Liam sing-songed, placing Zayn’s cornflakes on the table. “Didn’t you hear it from my room?”

Zayn’s mouth opened again, his brows furrowed and his eyes squinting down Louis’ hallway. 

A deep voice wailed, “Oh, fucking--Fuck! Fuck, oh God!” at the top of his lungs, the echo of the shower only amplifying the outburst.

Zayn rubbed his hand over his stubble.

“Christ, what’s Lou doing to him in there?”

“Dunno, but it’s apparently--”

Harry’s broken voice interrupted to beg, “Please, please, yes--” His tone jumped half an octave. “Ohh! Oh--Fucking, yes!”

“--Working,” Liam finished. He smiled and murmured under his breath, “I go two decades without hearing so much as a wank, and now we’re in perpetual Fucktown.”

Zayn’s eyes flickered to Liam, Liam pouring milk into their cereal. His gaze dropped down to his bare toes peeking out from his baggy sweats, stopping at the ripples of his stomach and the hair dusting between his pecs before returning to his face, serious as if he was conducting a science experiment instead of putting milk back in the refrigerator.

“Babe,” Zayn said, his hand squeezing his thigh through his black track pants, feet shuffling on the wood floor.

Liam’s right eyebrow rose, his body turning to face Zayn fully. 

“What?” Liam asked, closing the refrigerator with his bum. He put his hands on his hips. “What’s with the look?”

Zayn bit his bottom lip and smiled, spreading his legs and sitting back in his chair. He waited a beat, his hand inching up his own thigh. 

“It’s kind of turning me on.”

“You’re a freak,” Liam said with no heat, grinning, taking the kettle off the stove top. “That’s like listening to our brothers have sex.” 

“That would make us brothers, too,” Zayn said, waggling his eyebrows. “Extra kinky.”

Liam turned the stove off and smirked over his shoulder at Zayn.

“All that said, you’re my freak, and a gorgeous one, at that.” He held his hand out, eying the hard line just barely visible beneath the baggy material of Zayn’s trackpants. “Come along.”

Zayn shot out of his chair.

“First one in bed gets to bottom,” he said, running ahead of Liam.

Liam swooped up behind him, easily pulling Zayn into his arms before they even reached his hallway, both huffing laughs.

“I’m gonna make you make Harry noises,” Zayn said through his laughter, flailing his legs when he felt Liam bite the side of his neck, Liam’s strong arms tight around his middle.

...

Niall blinked at his bedroom ceiling, his mouth agape. He tried to breathe through his nose but was met with a brick wall in his sinuses. He sucked another breath in through his mouth, swallowing dryly. He threw his neon yellow and green striped duvet off his body.

He moved his legs over the edge of the bed, scratching his stomach through his baggy Ramones tee. His white tube socks were slouched to his ankles, Niall pulling them up to his shins, his sweats tucked inside his socks. He stood up and walked out of his bedroom, reaching his hands as high above his head as his creaky bones would allow.

He walked across the empty living room. He picked up a thick-knit blanket from the corner of the couch, swooping it over his shoulders like a cape. 

Harry’s bedroom door was half shut, a beam of sunlight spreading from the doorway over the hardwood floor. Niall could hear tinny speakers buzzing behind the door, a delighted giggle making it to his ears. He knocked on the doorframe and pushed the door all the way open.

“What are you watching, Haz--” 

He saw that Harry was not alone. Louis laid on his back on the right half of the bed with his legs bent at the knee, Harry sprawled on his side on the left half, both in loose dark sweats and beanies. A blue jersey a touch too tight hugged Harry’s chest and a black v-neck tee hung a bit too big on Louis’ frame. Louis wore socks, for once, black with white aliens, while Harry wore red polka dot socks with white toes.

Harry’s head dipped low at the top of the bed. The open laptop screen blocked what Niall imagined was a kiss, based on Louis’ toes curling into the rumbled duvet, his knees bobbing together.

“--zah!--Oh! Shit, sorry, mates,” Niall said, laughing, itching his fingers through the front of his hair. “I should have been louder.”

Harry’s head popped up over the laptop screen, his face flushed bright pink, Louis pushing himself up on his elbows.

“Hey, Nialler,” Louis said happily, his voice raspy and soft. He dabbed the back of his hand over his lips, crossing his ankles at the end of the bed. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, sorry.” He lifted the blanket over his face. “I didn’t know you were busy.” His eyes peeked over the edge of the blanket. “I’ll leave you guys alone for your CD party.”

He went to pull the door shut, but Harry was in the doorway, a sleepy smile on his face.

“Don’t be silly. How are you feeling?” He reached out, pressing the back of his hand to Niall’s forehead. He palmed under Niall’s jawline. “Throat alright? You don’t feel so swollen.”

“M’just stuffy,” Niall said. He tried to suck air through his nose. The noise that emerged from his throat resembled a garbage disposal full of solidified old milk. Louis and Harry wrinkled their noses in unison, Louis holding his hand over his throat as a reflex. “See? My body is working it out.”

Harry wrapped an arm around Niall’s shoulder. 

“Come on in. We’re watching South Park. Join us?”

Louis pushed the duvet down, kneeling and moving the laptop to the foot of the bed.

“I like your cape,” he said, smiling up at Niall. He made grabby hands, sitting back on his heels. “C’mere, Irish. You look like you need a cuddle.”

Niall took a step forward, then paused. He raised his hand, his index finger pointing out of the blanket, the blanket draped over his arm.

“When’s the last time you two sexed up these sheet, like, two minutes ago?”

“Nah. I got here, like, half an hour ago,” Louis said. “I came over to watch stuff and snuggle.”

“No sex,” Harry said with a firm nod. “Just cozy-time.”

Niall sighed.

“I feel like if you’re not both visible in the same room at the same time, you’re probably off somewhere making scary animal noises.”

Harry and Louis looked at each other, both humming, “Um,” and squinting. 

“S’been at least a week since we were actually in this particular bed, under the covers, full blown...” Harry whistled a swooping tone from high to low, poking his index fingers together. His hip quirked. “Probably a week and a half, now that I think of it.”

“I’ve been busy at work,” Louis said to Niall. His eyes shifted over Niall’s shoulder, he and Harry sharing a secret smile. “Not a lot of free time.”

Harry put gentle pressure between Niall’s shoulder blades.

“I changed the sheets two days ago, flatmate’s honor.”

Niall went down on the bed without protest, his knees sinking into the mattress, a tired sigh exhaled from his lips. 

“I trust ya, mate,” Niall murmured, crawling up the bed. The blanket got snagged on his heel, dragging down his legs. “Besides, I think I haven’t changed mine since April. I can’t really judge.”

Harry pulled the blanket off Niall’s body, folding it over his forearm. Niall spun around to get his legs under the blankets, Louis helping to tuck him in close to his side.

“I’ll be right back,” Harry said, padding out of the bedroom. “Tea?”

“Yes, please,” both Niall and Louis said.

Louis pulled the blankets up to Niall’s chest.

“Just to confirm,” Louis said, patting Niall’s stomach. “You do know that you have ANGEL studded on your arse, yeah?” 

“Mmhmm,” Niall said, flattening on his back. He wiggled his way to the centre of the bed, his arms propped behind his head. His eyes fell shut, his legs butterflying open. “Comfy, comfy.”

“I think those are for women, mate.” Louis pet Niall’s hair, running his fingernails against his scalp. “My sisters all wanted them for Christmas two years ago.”

Niall’s head moved towards his hand, his entire body following until he was laying his head on Louis’ shoulder.

“Huh, that makes sense, actually,” Niall said, pulling the blankets up to his chin. He cuddled back against Louis’ chest, his head pillowed by his pec, Louis’ arm snug around his shoulders. “This gorgeous Brazilian beauty left them in my bedroom, like, two years ago. The tag says boyfriend something or other. Maybe they’re okay for lads, too?”

Louis smiled, holding back a laugh. He itched the crown of Niall’s head, the tail end of a South Park episode playing on Harry’s laptop.

“Yeah, maybe.” 

“Whatever. I’m not bothered. I look good in magenta.” Niall stretched his legs out, exhaling a happy, settling sound. “And they’re so bloody comfortable.”

Louis caught a whiff Niall’s hair, letting his fingers spread through the strands. He sniffed closer, pressing his nose to his scalp. 

“Your hair smells like cotton candy.”

“There was a sale.”

“Ah.”

“I think it’s meant for babies,” Niall admitted, shrugging. His head nuzzled backwards. “But it was a great deal.”

“I love a good deal.” He stroked Niall’s hair off his forehead. “And your hair is so soft.” The soothing sensation of cool air on his face made Niall’s eyes feel heavy, his body melting into Louis’ warmth. “Who doesn’t like cotton candy?”

“Seriously,” Niall said, his lips barely moving. “Your boyfriend smells like he shits cookies, so I’m sure this is right up your alley.”

Harry walked into the bedroom, three mugs of tea balanced in his hands. He placed one mug on his bedside table.

“How do you know for a fact that I don’t shit cookies, hm?” 

“We have one toilet in the flat, mate,” Niall said, Harry’s jaw dropping. Louis’s chest vibrated with rhythmic, rapid giggles. Niall opened his eyes, tilting his head backwards to grin at Louis. “Sorry to break the fantasy.”

Harry scoffed, “You’re both gross,” and leaned over, Louis’ hand meeting him halfway to grab his mug of tea. Harry placed the third mug on the centre of Niall’s chest, his hand holding it steady. “Sit up, babe.”

Niall grumbled and shut his eyes tighter, nudging his head backwards against Louis’ shoulder. 

“But I’m comfy, Haz.” Niall tucked the blankets under his chin. “Lou is a living cuddle.”

“Drink something,” Harry’s amused gaze flickered to Louis, who was grinning at him, “then you can get comfy again.”

Niall sighed and wiggled his bum, his elbows pressing into the bed. He sat up enough to grab his tea, sipping once. He swallowed a mouthful, tipping his head back for another big gulp. He stopped drinking, panting out hot breaths. His nose wrinkled, his eyes squinting at Harry. 

“Why can’t you invent a tummy tea that has all the weird shit in it but tastes like beer?”

“I’ll work on that,” Harry said, Louis snuffling into his mug of regular tea. Harry picked up his laptop, placing it on Niall’s lap. “What do you want to watch?”

Niall slapped his lips together.

“South Park works for me.”

He held up his empty mug. Louis took it from him, rolling sideways and placing it on the bedside table.

“Man, you downed that,” Louis said, settling on his back. “Well done.”

“Irish,” Niall reminded him.

“Fair enough.”

Louis spread his left arm across the pillows, Niall’s head plonking on his shoulder. His hand was pinned to the bed by Harry’s head, Louis’ fingers stroking through his hair, Harry stretching his legs under the covers. Niall clicked on the next episode, his hand falling limp next to the laptop, Louis and Harry pressed close on either side of him.

“You’re both so warm,” Niall said, his words growing slower. He took an easy breath in through his nose, his head nudging against Louis’ shoulder. His chest rose with another breath, the weight on his sinuses lifting. “I feel like I’ve got two hot dads right now.”

“Aw, he thinks we’re hot,” Louis murmured, scratching Harry’s scalp. “Our big, beautiful, Irish man-baby.”

Niall started snoring before the theme song even ended. Louis rolled his head sideways. Harry’s eyes crinkled at him, the only part of him visible over Nialls’ wild quiff of blond hair.

…

“Good, good morning!”

Louis startled mid-step, his feet twisted in opposite directions and his fresh mug of tea teetering between his hands.

“Oh, hi,” he said, nodding to Simon. He steadied his legs, willing his heart rate back to a normal tempo. He dug his toes into the fronts of his black Vans and lifted one hand to wave. “Good morning.”

Simon spun in his desk chair and held his arms open towards his floor to ceiling windows. The morning looked like most others, a bit of fog and a bit of grey, but there was something soothing about seeing tiny people hustle on the street below, like looking in on a snow globe (minus the snow). Simon took a deep breath, sighing it out.

“It certainly is,” he said, bringing his hands above his head. He steepled his fingers, his chair bowing forward. He whispered, “Namaste,” and pushed himself across the office with one fell press of his bare feet on the ground.

Louis pressed his lips together, keeping his eyes on the ground. 

Simon gasped, then muttered, “Is that a new breakfast cart?” He pointed out the window, the tip of his finger a breath from the glass. His voice was still low, private, to whisper, “I think it is.” He spread his legs towards the window, Louis privy to a view of Simon’s legs from the knee down popping out from the sides of his chair. “Are you in the mood for an egg sandwich? Simone would kill me if she knew I snuck one. Cholesterol and all. But fuck it! We only live once, yeah?” He spun his chair suddenly and pulled his Blackberry out of his pocket, his eyes shimmering. “I’ll text Patrick and have him pick two up for us. Do you like bacon on yours?”

Louis had eaten breakfast already that morning, but when Simon Cowell asks if you want bacon on your breakfast sandwich, you answer, “Sure, thanks. Extra crispy,” and make a mental note to thank Patrick, one of Simon’s three warrior-like assistants.

Simon grinned, his fingers texting with his eyes still on Louis.

“Wonderful.” His phone vibrated, but Simon’s eyes didn’t drop from Louis’ face. “He said he’ll be here with our sandwiches in ten.”

“Great, cheers.” Louis turned away, the mug in his hands starting to sear his palms, but paused. He squared his body towards Simon. “Actually, if you have a minute, I’d like to talk to you about something.”

Simon pushed his feet against his glass wall, propelling himself backwards towards the centre of his long, spotless glass desk. He steepled his fingers, smiling wide.

“Of course,” he said, nodding cheerfully. He must have already done his morning yoga routine. He held one hand out in front of him. “Please, sit.” Louis slid into the seat across from Simon. “Coffee? Tea? Mimosa? I can call for Suzi. I believe she’s in.”

“No need, thanks,” Louis held up his mug of tea, “I'm good. And I think it’s just us again.” he sipped his tea. “Seems quiet out there.”

“Early birds getting their worms,” Simon said, his smile growing a touch more mischievous.

Louis’ cheeks went warm, his gaze dropping to sip from his mug. Sometimes, a mysterious delivery of fresh pastries would appear at his office, never accompanied by a card but always in Helena’s signature pale green box with a script H on the top. 

Simon had loudly declared, “Someone made a baker very happy this morning,” after the first surprise delivery, and had continued to shoot Louis knowing, smug looks each time pastries appeared at the office.

“So. L. Lou. Louis.” Simon stretched one leg across the length of his desk, Louis forcing his eyes to remain planted on Simon’s face. Maybe Simon’s morning yoga had not yet been finished. “What's up?”

“I wanted to let you know I've been doing a bit of volunteer work on the side.” He spun his mug in his lap, steam licking up towards his chin. “Nothing too huge.” He lifted his mug, sipping once. “I’ve been consulting two mates on a few design related matters.” 

“Oh,” Simon said, surprise lighting his eyes, the single syllable a bright bubble in the morning quiet. He lowered his leg to the floor, sitting up straight in his chair. “Thank you for letting me know. Many of your colleagues likely would not have done me the same courtesy.”

Louis ruffled the back of his hair, smiling at his own reflection in Simon’s desk. He brought his gaze back up to Simon.

“No problem. I wanted to let you know incase it comes back to Simone, so it wasn't a shock. I doubt it would, these guys are mostly indie, but I wanted to let you know that my name is out there connected to them, and I'm connected to Simone.”

“I see.” Simon sat back in his chair, one arm folded over his stomach. He rubbed the bottom seam of his black jumper, eying Louis for a long beat. “And what sort of,” his fingers on his right hand fluttered in the air, “arrangement have you made with these,” his lips twitched, “indie fellows?”

Louis sat back in his seat, his elbows on the arm rests, his right fingers looped through the mug handle to hold it in place.

“I drew up a pretty standard agreement that keeps my work covered while also making it really clear this is not an endless arrangement. I believe its fair for both parties.”

“Smart boy,” Simon said, his brows arched.

The beaming smile that stretched over his face caused Louis to smile into his mug and say, “I learned from the best.”

“You utter suck up,” Simon said on a laugh, Louis smiling with his lips shut, the back of his hand pressing into his mouth. “What have you been doing for them?”

Louis swallowed his mouthful of tea. 

“Not really a lot,” he said with a shrug. “Cleaning up logos. Streamlining design.” He blew a breath through his lips, looking out the window over Simon’s shoulder. “Their press kit materials were either nonexistent or complete disasters, so I helped them out with that. Mostly polishing things up, plus a touch of web design to get them rolling.”

“Ah, yes. Your secret gift,” Simon said wisely, his eyes widening.

“Not really a gift,” Louis said on a chuckle. “Just a skill I picked up along the way.”

“Are these bands any good?”

“Yeah, they are,” Louis said, pursing his lips forward and nodding. “My mate Niall is more of a songwriter, but he's getting some buzz going. He’s written a couple of songs that got picked up for commercials. Background music, mostly. And the other fellow, Ed, is amazing. He has a pretty big following already. The stats for his website were kind of insane within just a week of it going live. He asked me to design his first CD jacket, which could be cool.”

“Do you have the materials handy? I'd love to take a look.”

“Oh, uh,” Louis nodded again, surprise now brightening his face, “sure. I can bring them up on my laptop.” He stood from his chair, thumbing behind his back. “It's in my office.”

Simon stood up and clapped his hands together.

“Field trip!” He rounded his desk, sans shoes. “Let's stop in the kitchen first. I want something to sip pre-sammies.”

“I can make you a fresh cuppa, if you’d like,” Louis said, dunking his tea bag as he walked. “This box of orange blossom white tea appeared in the pantry and it’s kind of amazing. Not my normal preference, I am a Yorkshire man, afterall, but it’s quite nice in the morning.”

“That’d be lovely, thanks,” Simon said. He leaned his bum on a counter, Louis rifling around in a cabinet across the kitchen, their backs to each other. “What are your thoughts on travel?”

“Love it,” Louis said, pulling a mug down for Simon. “Wish I could travel more.” He shut the cabinet. “Why?”

“What percentage are you comfortable with?”

Louis’ hands slowed reaching for the tea tin. He blinked quickly, resuming his normal pace to take the lid off and retrieve one bag. He plopped the tea bag in an empty white mug.

“In terms of how often I’d be out of the office?”

“Maybe.” Simon’s voice lingered on his vowels, the soft word singing through the kitchen. “Though, that wasn’t really a fair question. I didn’t word it correctly. Apologies.”

Louis laughed lightly, pouring boiling water from the water cooler into Simon’s mug. He gave his mug a bit more hot water.

“What do you mean?”

“How do you feel about one-hundred percent?”

Louis turned towards him, a mug in each hand, his head quirked. Boiling water dripped over the edge of his mug onto the top of his hand, but his expression remained calm.

“Sorry?”

“A move,” Simon said, tapping his chin with his middle finger. His lips curled into a slow, small smile, his eyes tracing Louis’ features one by one. Forehead, nose, chin, then back to his eyes. Simon pointed his pinkie towards Louis. “A transfer. Unless,” he let his wrist go limp, his hand swaying side to side, “you weren’t interested in that sort of travel.”

Louis’ eyes remained unblinking, though his lips opened enough to let air out, words frozen in his chest.

The last few months of his life were among his most exciting. Wonderful. Happiest. Most comfortable and new and pleasurable and fun. Months that, in a movie of his life, would be the rose-hued montage his character would remember as an old man. 

These were magical, unreal months, months he was lucky enough to spend with a person who woke up early on a day when he had the morning off to spend time with him. To talk with him and shower with him and to make him eggs Benedict for breakfast, with homemade bread and the most beautiful poached eggs Louis had ever seen. 

The surprise breakfast was accompanied by a foot rub while he read the paper, an actual, physical copy of the newspaper because Harry was the type of person who liked having an actual, physical copy of the newspaper delivered each day (and recycled accordingly). Louis took the arts section, Harry working hard on the crossword puzzle between sips of coffee.

Where on this big, green globe would Louis ever find another person to fill his months in such a way?

Louis’ lungs sucked in a breath without his control, his nostrils flaring. He mentally catalogued all of the Simone locations. London. Tokyo. Chicago. LA. Miami. Paris. Berlin. Geneva. 

“What sort of location were you thinking of?” he asked, willing his voice to remain even.

“See, that’s the thing,” Simon said, striding over to Louis. “You’re due for a promotion. We both know that. You deserve one. And you being such a go-getter is a bit of a boss turn on, you know? I have something in mind for you here, at our London office, but I also...” He took his mug from Louis and sniffed it, his eyes fluttering shut. “Mm, this really is lovely.” He held the mug towards Louis. “Cheers.”

Louis walked behind Simon out of the kitchen, his heart racing.

“So, location? You were saying?”

“Yes, yes, well,” he waved his hand in the air, “these details all would need to be worked out. Meetings to be had. Budgets to calculate. I haven’t even fully committed to what exactly I want to do with you yet, but the end result is a done deal in my mind, despite my tendency to think a touch on the big side.”

Louis’ brain was now as hot as the scalding tea in his hand. Simon’s riddles melded with what he thought were compliments, but could be even deeper riddles.

“The board and I have discussed it,” Simon added, sounding chipper. He slurped his tea. “We’ll take care of you, Tomlinson.” He patted Louis’ cheek, his hand warm and scented like orange tea. “Gucci tried to scoop you up, but that wouldn’t do, would it? Rolex, too,” he laughed, resuming his strides, “those greedy, time-keeping bastards.”

“Uh,” Louis held out the sound, feet managing to follow Simon through the halls of Simone. “Excuse me?”

“Gucci. Rolex.” Simon said each named with a flick of his hand in the air. “They were both quite vocal in wanting to take you away for their own teams, but I said no. I wouldn’t let you go. They were smart to speak with me first, but then again, those are two great companies with long standing relationships with Simone. They would be foolish to cross me.” He sipped his tea, humming as if he were in pain. “This blend is truly delightful.”

Louis’ breath caught in his chest, panic and outrage squeezing his ribcage. What if Gucci or Rolex were better fits for him? For his finances? For his career? For his life? How dare Simon make that sort of decision for him?

“It’s happened before,” Simon said, seemingly unconcerned. “Employees being recruited mid-campaign. And we’ve let people be recruited if it was a good fit for both companies, but we simply cannot let you go and are willing to do whatever it takes to keep you.”

“But keep me where?” Louis asked, a touch of tension giving his voice a rough tone. 

“New York, of course.”

Louis laughed out, “What? When did you mention New York at all in this conversation?”

Simon stopped walking and blinked at him, suddenly serious, Louis’ laughter shriveling in his throat. The beat that passed felt like an eternity, Louis’ breath caught in his chest. 

A flicker of amusement ran through Simon’s eyes, his mouth pursing in a half smirk, half smile.

“We’d have you bop around a bit before you relocate. See each location, use that sort of melting pot mentality to mould our newest location in the heart of Manhattan. Miami will be especially happy to have you for a few weeks. You said you love travel, correct?”

“Right,” Louis said, drawing out the word, “but,” he scratched his brow with his thumb, “I figured you’d be in New York, at least to start it up, and then have an entirely new crew over there. What does all that have to do with me?”

“Oh, I will be there,” Simon breezed, reentering his office. “I have a lovely penthouse overlooking Central Park West. Such stunning architecture. It’s among my favourite pied-a-terres, which is why I’m looking forward to living there for a period of time. However,” he sank into his seat, blowing over his tea, “I’ll need a,” he shut his eyes, inhaling a noseful of steam, “VP of Design that I can trust, which is where you come in. You’re so good with everyone, the talent especially, and I like that about you. Not all artists are quite so personable.”

Louis’ feet stopped mid-step, his hand shooting out to grip the glass wall of Simon’s office doorway. His fingertips caused steam to form in a hand shape, his throat bobbing to swallow. 

VP. Vice. President. Title. Raise. Savings account. Security. Money. Money. Money.

He hadn’t even logged into his work email account and his head was already spinning, a strange sadness dragging from the backs of his eyes to the top of his skull.

Simon’s eyes opened, another smirk directed at Louis. 

“The move wouldn’t be forever, if you have a desire to remain in London long-term. And besides,” Simon’s legs lifted, both feet hooking on the edge of his desk, “nothing is set in stone. Still have a few,” he tilted his head to the left, “kinks to work out before we make an official offer. Board meetings. Lunches. And so on.” He took a loud slurp of tea. “I think you’ll enjoy the board lunches the most. We don’t cut corners.”

“I see,” Louis said, lowering himself into a chair. His voice felt far away, yet bounced around his ear drums to the beat of his quickening pulse. “I...Am very appreciative that you think of me that way.”

Simon laughed and Louis blinked rapidly, rubbing his hand over his chin.

“I hope Patrick is here with our sammies soon,” Simon said, checking his Blackberry. “You look a bit green.” He plopped it on his desk. “In need of bacon.”

“Sorry, it’s--” Louis’ voice came out too gruff, too airy. He swallowed, the back of his throat like sand paper. “A lot to take in.”

“I know, which is why I’m glad we got to talk before things...Happen.”

Louis looked up from his lap at the quiet statement. Simon’s eyes were focused on his face, energy radiating across the desk.

“I know it’s hard to move around when you’ve got a life in one place,” Simon continued, crossing his leg, leaning back his chair. His hand gestured for each word to list, “Family. Friends. Things you enjoy.” He paused, holding Louis’ rapt gaze. “People you enjoy.” He dragged his index finger around the rim of his mug, never breaking his stare. “I met Simone when we were both sixteen. I knew I was going to marry her from the moment we met, but I also knew life had other things in store for us. Plans. Dreams. Talents not to be wasted. She was destined for great things, as was I.” 

Among feeling green, panicked, sweaty, angry, sad, and confused, Louis could now add teary-eyed to his early morning emotional roller coaster. He willed his chest to remain calm, to continue breathing and processing air as usual.

“Which is why we are where we are today,” Simon said, spreading his arms wide, smiling. “It’s a choice some people make, while others ignore it, and there is no easy or correct answer for which route each individual person is made for. It’s not easy, but then again,” he shrugged one shoulder, “life is not always easy.” 

He bent forward across his desk, his elbows propped on the glass, his chair leather sighing under his shifting weight. He narrowed his eyes, his voice dropping to that gentle, quiet tone again. 

“Something tells me you might be on a similar route, which is why I want to help you in any way I can. Great people tend to draw in other great people. Only then can someone of your calibre truly be challenged and grow.” 

Simon smiled with his lips shut, propping his chin on one thumb. He and Louis stared at each other, the office quiet, the air unmoving. Simon blinked once, twice, three times, then widened his eyes for a split second. 

He murmured, “And my how you’ve grown these past months, Louis Tomlinson.”

Louis’ bones felt brittle, his eyes dry and unblinking, his jaw starting to ache and his stomach nothing more than a sack of multiplying acids.

“I come bearing sandwiches!” Patrick cried, hurrying through the open door. He handed Simon a foil wrapped sandwich. “Would you believe that the new food truck offers everything on their menu in a vegan option? What a variety. What culinary craftsmanship.” He placed a sandwich on Louis’ lap, Louis unmoving save for his hand curling around the lump. “They even have waffles and iced cream, if you’re into that sort of breakfast.” Patricks’ face registered sudden panic, his warm brown eyes darting to Simon and his blond quiff wilting forward. “You wanted just sandwiches, right? I can run back to the cart--”

“Yes, thank you, Patrick,” Simon said with a smile, his voice slow. “Excellent work.”

Patrick stood up straighter and smiled, Louis able to see his pulse throbbing beneath his jawline. He knew the feeling.

“I’ll be at my desk if either of you need anything,” Patrick said, stepping backwards out the door.

Simon hummed to himself as he unwrapped one section of foil. He lifted it to his lips then dropped his sandwich, the foil crinkling under a heavy thud of eggs and bread. He snapped his fingers.

“Shit, L.” His hand lifted towards Louis. “We skipped the logo tour.”

Louis placed his wrapped sandwich on the desk top, his other hand clenching his tea mug.

“What?”

“Your band logos.”

“Oh, right.” Louis nodded, his acid-filled stomach swerving forwards and back with each motion. “Yes. Right, well…” He wiggled his toes in his shoes, tensing his knees from his seat. “We don’t have to do that now. Enjoy your breakfast. You’ve already been so generous with your time, I’ll leave you to it.”

“Nonsense!” Simon’s body popped up from behind his desk, his mug of tea clasped in his hands without a single drop spilling on his white button down shirt. He lifted his sandwich and took a bite. “Mmm,” he groaned, his eyes fluttering shut. He chewed for as long as it took for Louis to stand up, steady himself, and paste on a smile. Simon rounded his desk and patted Louis between his shoulder blades. He walked past him and asked, “Shall we?” as he exited his office.

Hours, and one heaven-sent egg sandwich that he couldn’t stomach until lunchtime, later, Louis finally had a break to nip into the toilets. He locked the door, thankful that Simone had sprung for extra-private stalls with floor to ceiling doors and walls. Luckily, they were not glass, but dark wood.

He put the seat down and sat on it, his iPhone clutched between his hands. Harry had texted him three photos at three different times of an older gentleman they nicknamed Mr. Tea, due to his habit of staying in Helena’s for hours and nibbling the same plain scone. He refused to purchase a cup of tea for himself, only requesting hot water, lemon, sugar, and honey.

**10:15. 11. 12:30. he was here before i got in...i even hid a tea bag under the sugar canister for him when he went to the loo and he pretended not to see it! what self control!!**

Louis read Harry’s message and barked out a laugh.

_you should keep trying to slip him a teabag. leave one in the little pot of flowers on his table tmrw_

**i could bake one into a scone**

_he’d probably return it and request a refund. faulty scone!_

Louis swallowed and pushed thoughts of baked goods aside, sending another text before Harry could reply.

_thank you so much for breakfast this morning, was incredible...i even listened to your body is a wonderland on repeat the whole way to work, that’s how incredible you are xx_

**i wish every morning could be like this morning :))) you are so welcome...would do it every day for you xx but john mayer on one of your playlists!? you utter sap!**

Louis smiled down at his phone, exhaling a high-pitched, happy sound out his nostrils, his lips tight together. 

_simon mentioned the promotion again w/lots more details_

**!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
** **LOU!!!!**  
 **can i call you or are you busy?**  
 **nvm, you call me whenever you want, or we can talk later, whatever you want**  
 **SO PROUD OF YOU!**

Harry’s immediate flurry of replies and Emoji made Louis hunch over, his elbows on his knees and his head hanging low. Of course Harry, who would voluntarily cook him a gourmet breakfast and rub his feet every morning, knew to put the ball in Louis’ court for something as simple as a phone call. His sweetness was rivaled only by his award nominated baked goods.

_i’ll call you later :) am hiding in the toilets, but need to get back_

**tmi ;)**

_ha. ha._

Louis bit his bottom lip, sighing out a long breath.

_what would you do if i was on the other side of the world? who would eat your fancy breakfasts then?_

The moment he sent the text, he regretted it. Harry deserved better than a veiled question about a serious matter, unsure as he was about Simon’s riddled offer.

He opened his phone’s keypad and pressed three. His thumb was a breath away from hitting the round green phone button when Harry’s reply came through.

**i’d learn to pilot a hot air balloon and come to you, wherever you are, with enough eggs benny packed for the both of us. don’t you worry, i have an excellent sense of direction...i’d come find you xx**

Louis’ eyes clenched shut, his closed fist pressing to his forehead and his throat swollen. He felt two hot drips tumble down his cheekbones, the drops landing on his black skinnies and seeping through the thin material.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, I do not work in advertising, so I'm basically just trying to make things seem logical in terms of Louis' job (within a fantasy world lol).
> 
> Also, The London Food and Wine Awards seems to be fictional, but I'm basing it on a conglomeration of every foodie award I've ever seen on various competition television shows or heard of chefs receiving.
> 
> Hopefully those two little things will not bother anyone!
> 
> These are sort of the shower bits I had in mind for Louis' new shower:
> 
> Shower head
> 
> Hand shower
> 
> . . .
> 
> Title is from my favorite Tegan and Sara song, [ Relief Next To Me ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yftgnkdan8%20)
> 
> Come say hello on [ LJ](http://dolce-piccante.livejournal.com) and [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com)


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We pick up with the boys basically where we left off and continue from there. Lots of chatting and some new (original character) faces.
> 
>  _Italics_ are used for some flashbacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! Welcome back and Happy New Year! :) 
> 
> HUGE thank you thank you thank you to warrior beta [Jess](whitechimes.tumblr.com), for wading through my terrible Google Docs, putting up with my bizarre typos, giving me coffee advice and being a lovely, supportive, wonderful person!! She even betas while asleep ;) hahah Thank you! <333 
> 
> Thank you to my genius friend Alex for helping me with some UK related things! She is truly a brilliant woman (and writer!) and very generous with her time and knowledge. I'm not from the UK, so I tried my best with some details. Hopefully nothing will be too distracting!
> 
> Finally, mega thank you to all the readers! <333 I’m always reduced to a pile of mush when I read your adorable, supportive comments, Tumblr asks, even the little notes you leave when bookmarking. What gifts you all give me! So thank you so much!!
> 
> Enjoy!

Harry walked through the door of Partridges and inhaled deeply through his nose, his hands on his hips and his chest puffed out. He felt like he could hear birds singing and feel sunshine warming his cheeks, even though he was standing in the doorway of a grocery store. 

There was something familiar and comforting about the smell of a grocery store. The combination of raw vegetables and fresh bread and crisp paper bags to carry your treasures home was soothing to him, like he was entering a building full of old friends.

A wide smile stretched across his face as he watched the other shoppers pushing their trolleys from aisle to aisle, like some sort of grocery ballet. He bent over and picked up a basket to join the ballet, a cheerful skip in his step. 

He made a beeline towards the meat and seafood section. Protein was where most of his meals began, the sides forming around whatever main course he decided to tackle. His feet slowed near a display of colouring books. He opened the first page of a book dedicated to frogs, his hips swaying to the mellow instrumental music piped through the store.

A familiar voice crowed, “Is that London Food and Wine Awards double nominee Chef Harry Styles?” 

Harry grinned and closed the colouring book, his cheeks burning. He took the remaining three steps to bring him to the meat, poultry, and seafood section. Brown, almond-shaped eyes sparkled at him over the glass case. 

“Hey, mate.” Harry squeezed his strong hand of a bearded butcher, their smiles growing. “Alright?”

“Yeah, I’m excellent, man,” Ravi said, his high bun of black hair swaying as he nodded. “You? Congratulations on the nominations.” He patted the top of Harry’s wrist, squeezing Harry’s hand between both of his own steak sized paws. “So thrilled for you.”

“Aw, thanks so much. It was…” Harry’s eyes widened. “It was a total shock,” he said on a laugh, his voice breathy. “But I’m really excited even to be nominated.”

“With good reason. We’re doing some of the catering for it. You’ll be eating like a prince that night.”

“Good to know. The beard’s looking good,” Harry said, breaking their handshake to wiggle his long fingers at Ravi’s face. “Very rugged. You made the right choice keeping it through the summer.”

Ravi palmed over his chin, a plastic covering crunching beneath his hand. 

“It’s getting a bit out of control, isn’t it? Tonya keeps telling me I’m gonna have birds laying eggs in it.”

“Nah, it looks great. I can barely get fuzz going, myself.”

“Baby faced baker,” Ravi said, white teeth bright against his tan skin, Harry smiling and rubbing his cheeks. “Where’s Louis?”

Harry’s stomach tingled, warmth spreading across his chest. He and Louis made a habit of stopping by the Partridges’ outdoor market on Saturdays whenever their schedules allowed, whether they were doing a full shop or stopping to sample snacks. It was terrible for their budget, but excellent for their bellies. 

They had seen Ravi, a long-time foodie friend, together a handful of times, which made Harry’s full-body buzz only more intense. Ravi remembered Louis’ name; he assumed that Louis should be by Harry’s side for something as mundane as grocery shopping.

Harry smiled and could feel his dimples deepening. He ran his fingers through the front of his hair.

“He’s still at work. He’s going to meet me here and then I think I’m going to cook for us tonight.”

“Lucky Louis. I’ve got some of that salmon he likes so much,” Ravi said, gesturing to the middle of the case. They walked to the bright cuts of fish laid out over ice chips, pale orange strips of salmon on display in the centre. “And I’ve got some lovely sea bass, as well.” Ravi pointed to a meaty strip of white barely tinged with pink. “Super fresh and on sale. What are you in the mood for?”

“I’m not sure, actually.” Harry moved further to the left and bent down, squatting in front of the case. He took in all the different cuts of meat and fish, a rainbow of protein waiting to be turned into something delicious. “I was thinking red meat, for once.”

“Lamb, maybe?” 

Harry’s eyes fell on the lamb shanks as Ravi suggested them. Lamb was a treat among meats, a touch pricey and not done as often as beef or chicken. The lamb shanks were prepared perfectly. The white bones were clean and thin, the meat a thick, deep red chop like a lollipop on top of the slender bones, the cleanliness of each shank a result of Ravi’s expert butchery.

His brain started to plan, a recipe scribbling on a scroll inside his head. Tendrils of energy extended to each aisle of the store, a grocery list forming alongside the menu.

Lamb shanks braised in red wine with creamy mashed potatoes and roasted vegetables. Beetroots or carrots. The beetroots could be thrown together with gorgonzola, the carrots sweetened by brown sugar. Smoky steamed spinach to contrast. Polenta, maybe, instead of potatoes. He had not yet made polenta for Louis.

He had a bold bottle of rossa, a spicy, fruity red wine, tucked away in his kitchen that was waiting for the chance to shine with a strong flavour profile and a bit of decadence. Good news at work deserved decadence, especially considering both he and Louis had been excelling at the same time. 

“They look amazing,” Harry said, eye-level with the case. He smiled at Ravi from beneath the first level of meat. “Four, please.”

The bakery had been booming ever since his name was included among the nominees for the London Food and Wine Awards. In addition to their usual clientele, there had been a steady flow of new customers, plus the occasional blogger or reporter stopping by the chat with Harry. It had been a whirlwind of impromptu interviews and a scheduling balancing act to fit in enough prep for their larger volume of customers.

A ripping sound broke into his thoughts. He stood to his full height, his brows furrowed while still staring at the lamb shanks.

“I’ll give you five for four because you’re a cutie,” Ravi said, halting the spin of a large roll of white butcher paper. “And because Louis is a standup guy. I dunno how he stays so slim with your creations around all the time. Maybe Niall will eat the extra shank if you douse it in ketchup and body glitter.”

A faint smile curved Harry’s lips. 

“Louis barely ever eats sweets and you’re exactly right about Niall. Those are his largest food groups.”

“I knew it,” Ravi laughed.

“Now that I think of it, let me check with Louis first before I get these.” Harry took his iPhone out of his pocket. “I think he eats lamb, but,” he lifted the phone as he texted, “I’ll check.”

“No worries, man.” Ravi lifted a clean white towel from behind the counter. “Take your time.” He started to whistle as he wiped the counter top, murmuring, “Someone’s whipped like a mashed sweet potato,” under his breath.

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry said at full volume, grinning down at his phone. Louis had texted him a rough sketch for an Yves Saint Laurent ad, complete with a half-drawn male model who looked an awful lot like Harry himself draped in an expensive suit. “Whipped and wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Ravi laughed as a customer came up to the counter, a trolley nudging Harry’s arse. Wordlessly, Harry stepped aside and nodded at Ravi, Ravi winking at him. 

Harry moved towards the end of the meat case, his feet going pigeon-toed. He walked past the display of colouring books.

He sent a quick message to Louis, including an Emoji of a sheep, a heart, and a fork and knife.

_do you like lamb?_

He looked over his shoulder and saw that a line had formed at the counter, Ravi showing an older gentleman the cut of sea bass he had been glowing about. Harry hummed and turned around, his basket looped over his forearm. He walked to the wall of vegetables, small sprinklers spraying over certain sections. 

Harry ran his fingertips over a bundle of kale, testing the springiness of the leaves. He walked up to the carrots, his eyes darting from the bright orange bolts to the round little bulbs of fresh beetroots, pink turnips separating his two finalists for tonight’s side dish.

He placed his basket on the floor and picked up a bundle of carrots. He turned them on their side, watching how the carrots swayed beneath their long, green stems. He gently picked up a bundle of beetroots and they wilted in his hand, his nose wrinkling until he found a bunch that seemed as impressive and springy as the carrots. 

“I do.”

Harry spun around with beetroots in one hand and carrots in the other. He smiled wide, his left foot bumping into his basket.

“Hello there,” he said, stepping closer. He pressed his lips to Louis’ mouth, biting his bottom lip for a split second. Louis gripped his hips, dropping a kiss to Harry’s jaw line, his thumbs rubbing Harry’s hip bones through his white tee. “You like lamb?”

“Yup. Haven’t had it in a while, but I think I like it.” Louis looked from bundle to bundle, his lips twitching into a small smile. “Planning a menu?”

Harry grinned and said, “Maybe,” brushing the fluffy green stems over Louis’ nose. Louis giggled and swatted the vegetables away. “Alright, so.” Harry stepped back. “What do you think: Beetroots,” he held up his left hand, “or,” he held up his right hand, “carrots? What are you feeling?” He swayed each item forwards and back. “I could go either way, myself.”

Louis took a breath in, looking from vegetable to vegetable, then blurted out, “The promotion that Simon talked about includes me becoming VP of Design,” Harry’s eyes lit up, “in New York.”

Harry’s open lips rounded, his head tilting, Louis’ body shaking an arms-length away. Sprinklers started to spray over nearby lettuce, the small hissing sound filling the air between them.

Harry exhaled, “Oh,” his shoulders slumping forward, the vegetables sinking lower.

“And I shouldn’t have sent some stupid text to you about breakfast foods,” Louis said, shaking his head side to side. His hand trembled as he threw it up to his head, itching through the back of his hair. “No way. I should have been upfront about it. You deserve nothing but complete honesty.”

“You had this conversation with Simon a couple of hours ago and texted me as soon as you could,” Harry said, his words fitting between Louis’ rambling and his need for a breath. “You’re being honest, Lou. Please don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“I know, but I’m sorry for that. I have no excuse for being stupid--"

"You weren't stupid."

"--but I just...I...I don’t want to move to New York.” 

Louis’ voice sounded too childish and high pitched for his ears despite every effort to remain in control. He placed the heels of his hands over his eyelids, shaking his head. He forced his feet to remain on the floor, stifling the desire to stomp his foot and huff air out of his nose like an angry little bull.

He whispered, “I don’t want to move away from you,” and brought his eyes up to Harry’s face.

It was a mistake. Seeing Harry’s big, bright eyes sag with sadness and the corners of his full lips tilt downwards nearly knocked Louis off his feet and into a display of fresh green beans.

“Louis--”

“God, and you were so bloody cute with the hot air balloon thing,” Louis said, his arms looping over the top of his head. His eyes clenched shut. “Harry, fuck, Harry, I--”

Harry stepped closer and said, “Louis,” while holding out the vowels, his brows rising as Louis’ voice puttered off. Louis blinked at him, the right leg of his trousers hitched higher than the left. “I don’t care if you’re transferred to the moon.”

“You don’t?”

“It doesn’t change anything between us.” When Louis said nothing, his mouth moving without sound, Harry’s eyes bulged and his face twitched. “Are you insane? Did you really think that it would?”

“Oh, thank fucking God,” Louis said quickly, his arms shifting to hug around Harry’s middle. “I was so scared. I didn’t know what to think.” He pressed his nose into the centre of Harry’s chest, rubbing his cheek against his soft, worn tee. He mumbled, “Today was the worst day ever,” and hugged him tighter.

Harry laughed, his air supply cut off and Louis’ hair tickling his neck. His hands, still holding vegetables, came to rest on Louis’ back.

“You should be happy, Lou,” Harry said into his hair. He rubbed up and down between his shoulder blades, Louis exhaling heavily against his skin. “This is amazing. I’m so proud of you. This is huge!”

“But…” Louis’s nose nuzzled the base of Harry’s neck, his eyelashes shivering. “I thought...I didn’t know…”

Harry tilted his gaze downwards, his eyebrows arched.

“You thought that the potential of a transfer was going to make us break up?”

“Ugh, don’t even say it like that,” Louis groaned out, his words muffled by t-shirt. He shook his head. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

“And neither do I.”

“But,” Louis pulled his face back, peering up at Harry, “if I get transferred, and if I get this new position,” he stepped out of Harry’s arms, a new sort of stress dampening his eyes, “it will change things.” He swallowed. “It will change a lot of things.”

Harry’s head shook slightly, his eyes squinting.

“But it doesn’t change how we feel about each other.”

“It will change things,” Louis said, quiet and low. “Not only my location, which I know will be a huge thing, but…” His face clenched inwards, as if he was wincing in anticipation for a punch. “It’s going to change some timeline things.”

“We'll work it out."

“You say that now, but what about in a year?”

“In a year I want to be with you. That’s all that matters.”

“Harry,” Louis said, stepping away from him. His hands lingered on Harry’s hips, his smile sad. “We hated being away from each other for the week I was in Miami. How do you think you’ll feel if I live in another country?”

Harry’s brows knitted.

“We’ll make it work, like with the Dropbox and Skype and Facetime.”

“You say that now, but--”

Harry interrupted to ask, “Why are you not even entertaining the thought that we can make this work?” His hands tightened around the stems of his beetroots and carrots, Louis’ mouth popping open. “Do you have such little faith in us that you have to shoot down every idea to make long distance work?”

“That’s not it at all,” Louis said over Harry’s last statement, shaking his head. “I swear, Harry, it’s not that at all. I’d go to war for you, you know that--”

“Then why are you being so negative?”

Louis’ arms shot out wide.

“Because the thought of you being sad makes me want to throw myself off the roof of this building!” 

Harry’s lips closed to a tight line, his nose exhaling a sigh that caused his chest to sink. Louis brought his hands closer to his chest, cradling the air between them. 

He continued, “The thought of you being lonely--Or the thought of me not being here for you when you get write-ups and rave reviews, or if you get the flu or break your ankle or--It just--” 

He pounded the centre of his own chest with his right fist, his eyes trembling to remain focused on Harry’s face. 

“It kills me,” Louis’ face opened to laugh bitterly, his shoulders up to his ears, “and it hasn’t even happened yet! And I don’t know how to deal with all this. We are--” 

Louis’ head shook with involuntary twitches. He gestured between them. 

“Amazing together,” Louis whispered. Harry’s eyes softened, his hips leaning towards Louis. “We are _fucking amazing_ together. And then this outside thing comes in that, on paper, is great and kind of insane, but in reality scares the shit out of me.” 

He jerked his hand through his hair, his quiff high. He shook his head at Harry, both of his hands laced in his hair. 

“This is completely new ground for me and I’m flying blind right now. I’m panicking.”

“You should not be panicking,” Harry said, stepping closer. “At all. There is no reason to panic. And, wait,” his lashes fluttered, “why am I the one who is breaking his ankle?”

“I’m a planner,” Louis said, his tone wrecked. He stared at the radishes receiving their afternoon shower behind Harry’s back. “I usually know what’s going on and how to handle things that come my way, but this is a totally new set of variables and,” his face scrunched, “emotions. And I’m not sure what to do.”

“You don’t have to do anything, Louis. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. You don’t have anything to worry about when it comes to us.”

Louis’ lips flapped open to let out a laugh, the giggle bubbly and smooth compared to his speaking voice.

“Then why are we having a fight over an unconfirmed transfer in the middle of the produce aisle?”

Harry’s face relaxed into a smile, his arms looping around Louis’ waist. Louis laughed again, prompting Harry to start chuckling. Louis lifted himself up on the balls of his feet, pecking the corner of Harry’s mouth. They kissed tenderly, Louis’ fingers clenching in the bottom of Harry’s tee, dirt crumbling to the floor as Harry rubbed his back.

Harry broke the kiss and pressed their foreheads together, murmuring, “Now that you’ve had your freak-out, can I talk?”

“Of course.” Louis’ nose scrunched, one of his eyes nearly shut. “I can’t believe I had a grocery store freak-out. How insane am I?”

“You’re not insane,” Harry said on a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You’re a thoughtful, smart person.”

“I don’t feel very smart right now.”

“You don’t feel smart?” Harry’s full lips curved into a warm smile. “Simon Cowell, the most important, intimidating man in advertising, wants to entrust his new location in the most difficult city in the world to you.” He prodded Louis’ chest with the points of the carrots. “He trusts you enough to captain his ship. He respects your artistic eye enough to give you full control over the designs coming out of his business, his pride and joy.”

“That’s all, erm, nice or whatever,” Louis said, his cheeks flushing bright pink and his eyes directed at Harry’s boots. “But...It’s the moving that worries me.”

“I figured he’d move you to Miami, if anything.”

Louis’ eyes snapped upwards, his nose exhaling a puff of air.

“What?”

“Yeah, with all the schmoozing he had you do while you were there.”

“You really thought that?”

“I mean, I never thought he’d make you move completely, but I kind of figured he was having you test the waters in Miami.”

Louis’ lips flapped for a moment, his eyes shocked.

“I thought that, too, but then thought I was reading into his weirdness too much.”

“See?” He tapped Louis’ forehead with the tip of a carrot. “Smart.”

“Ha ha,” Louis deadpanned, swatting the carrot away, a smile licking at his lips.

“If you move, then that gives us an excuse to travel more. To see each other. And we’ll have two home-bases to spring off of if we want to take a holiday.”

Louis wrapped an arm around his own middle, leaning his elbow on that forearm and cradling his chin with his palm.

“I did pester the HR lady today to find out the holiday package that VPs get. It’s…” He allowed himself a small smile. “It could be nice, if it happens.”

“See? It’s like…” 

Harry trailed off and studied Louis’ face for a long moment. A family of red-headed children ran around them in a circle, a young boy holding a chocolate bar away from his four younger sisters. Harry nudged Louis’ face up with a thumb beneath his chin, Louis’ breath catching once their eyes made contact, beetroots resting against the side of his face.

“Everything with you is like an adventure,” Harry said, his voice all Louis could hear in the bustling store. “You are an adventure in itself. And I…” Harry’s voice softened, his eyes shimmering happily. “I love that. It’s what attracted me to you in the first place, among other things. You being an adventure has only made me want you more. The fact that you picked me to go on this adventure with you, out of everyone in the world, blows my mind every day.”

Louis said nothing, his mouth agape and his arms limp at his sides. Harry stepped closer. His sweet breaths brushed over Louis' lips.

“Some adventures take place in the same setting. Even when we’re sitting around being lazy and watching telly, it’s still like an adventure for me because you’re there. You’re with me. But,” Harry shrugged his right shoulder forward, that side of his mouth rising higher in his smile, “other adventures don’t take place in the same setting forever. And that’s okay. That's why adventures are adventures."

"I’m in for whatever adventures are in store for us. Not just in, but excited.” He nodded and grinned, looking to be on the brink of chest bumping the crate of cauliflower to his left. “I’m totally game for whatever life with you brings, wherever that may be.”

“I,” Louis’ voice broke, his throat coughing out a choppy grunt, “I’d feel bad, because we’re...New.” His eyes started to tremble again, the edges shining, his jawline flickering. He looked at the beetroots, eyes sliding to the bundle of carrots, studying the tiny smudges of dirt sticking to Harry’s fists. “And it’s a lot to ask in the beginning of a relationship. Isn’t it?”

“Hey, so, what month is it?”

“August.”

“Which means we’ve known each other for,” Harry lifted each finger as best he could with his hands full of vegetables, “eight months. Spring, summer, and nearly fall. Eight fantastic months, if I do say so myself, but maybe I’m a bit biased.”

Louis let out a soft sound, not quite a laugh and not quite a sigh. He rubbed his hand over his mouth, his eyes directed at the tile floor. Harry’s brows pinched together, his hands tightening on the vegetable stems. He took a step closer.

Under the harsh lights, he saw that the skin beneath Louis’ eyes was puffier than usual, his lower eyelids pink and his bottom lip swollen.

“This really upset you,” he said gently, concern darkening his eyes. “The idea of moving.”

Harry’s shadow slid over Louis’ front, Louis able to feel his body heat without lifting his face. He could hear trolleys squeaking around them, shoes tapping the tile floor, sprinklers hissing and spraying water.

“It’s a big thing for me to...To be your boyfriend,” Louis said, his voice quiet and rough. “Do you get that?”

“I do.”

“It’s a big deal for me to...To have a companion, you know? To not do everything on my own. I was a pretty solitary person before you, and then...Now, we…” His smile took over his face suddenly, his eyes crinkling. “We go to our friend's birthday parties together. You remembered to pick up wine for us to bring to Suzi's flat-warming party."

"You brought the perfect candle as a gift when we had dinner at Helena's," Harry said, grinning. "You reminded me to mail my mum a birthday gift and you took my car for an oil change when I was swamped at work."

"You came with me to that dreadful baby shower for my cousin and we--" Louis ran his tongue over his bottom lip. "We talked about holidays. Together. Like, your mum mentioned the holidays when we Skyped with her the other day, and I--”

“I’m sorry, I know that was a lot for her to say,” Harry said, his face rosy. “I told her we hadn’t even discussed it yet and I didn’t mean for her to freak you out or--”

Louis flattened his right hand on the centre of Harry’s chest.

“No, no, I wasn’t afraid or freaked out or scared.” He shook his head. “Not at all. I was excited to spend the holidays with you and your family. And that’s, like, months away! But I...” Louis laughed, his breath hitching, “I really, really, really like it. Being with you. More than I thought I could ever like being with...With anyone. And the thought of losing that, is just,” he shook his head quickly, “no. I don’t want to even think of it.”

“I’m not Thor, Louis,” Harry whispered, his breath brushing over Louis’ quiff. “I’m not going to run away because of a transfer.”

Louis’ face rose to meet his gaze, Harry’s eyes warm. Louis took a deep breath, his lips shut in a thin line.

“VPs of Design don’t get to have kids when they’re thirty. Or a dog.” The tempo of his words grew faster, the light in his eyes flickering brighter. “We talked about getting a dog, but how am I supposed to take care of a dog, let alone a kid,” his pitch started to rise, “if I’m going to be traveling all over, all the time? If I live in New York?”

“Simon wants to hold on to you. That’s obvious. To keep you at his company.”

“He really does. He,” Louis sighed, “chased a few companies away from me to keep me for himself, the bastard.”

“Right. So, tell him you want a certain standard of living. A certain work-life balance. And if he won’t accommodate,” Harry’s shoulders curved inwards, “look elsewhere for work.”

“Harry,” Louis laughed, though there was no joy in his laughter, “I work at the absolute greatest company for what I want to do. I will never find a sweeter gig. There is nowhere up from here, besides from within, which is what Simon is possibly offering. This is not--”

“Excuse me,” an old man crackled, stepping between them with his trolley. “Need the plums.” His voice was softer to mutter, “Taking up the bloody aisle with your soap opera.”

Louis widened his eyes at Harry, Harry’s lips trembling with unsung laughter. Once the man was clear of them, Louis continued to explain in a more controlled tone of voice.

“This isn’t a simple promotion with a little bit of a raise. This is a life changing opportunity. This is financial security for our future, for my family’s future, and a whole new world of creative opportunities for me.”

“Then negotiate with him. He needs to keep you happy.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“It can be. You’re what he wants. Make him chase you. Lord knows you know how to make a man chase you.”

Louis ignored the flirty spark lighting Harry’s face, his throat bobbing to swallow dryly.

“Harry,” he stepped closer, his voice softer, “I...I know what you want. That you want kids and...All that. And I do, too, you know I do, but..." His face winced ever so slightly, as if a knife was slowly being pressed into the meat of his gut. "What if I can’t give you what you want, when you want it?”

“That’s years away.”

“It’s years away, but it would be wrong for me to pretend I’m not aware that it could be an issue in the future.”

“Louis.” Harry’s hands clenched the stems of his vegetables. “If I told you tomorrow that I had an incredible opportunity for my career, but I needed to move, what would you say?”

“I’d say to take it,” Louis said without missing a beat. “Go for it. We'll work it out.”

“Why?”

“Because I want the world for you. I want everything for you.”

“And that’s exactly how I feel for you.”

“But kids and--”

“Kids and a dog? Those would be incredible bonuses. Yes, I would love both eventually, if they’re in the cards. But you. You. You are the most important person for me. In my life. You are who I want to be with. You are who inspires me and makes me a better person, just because I’m around you.”

“Emphasis on around me." Louis threw his hands up. "Around. Meaning, we get to see each other, not that I live on another continent! I don’t--Ugh,” Louis groaned and clenched his face, “I don’t want to not be with you! I don’t want to be away from our friends and family! Our growing life here. It’s like we’re in a perpetual episode of Friends, only with a lot more fucking involved.”

Harry squared himself towards Louis, his right hip quirking. His throat bobbed before he started speaking, his voice even and deep.

“On the fourth of January, if you had swallowed and said, ‘I’m getting transferred to New York tomorrow. Thanks for the cock,’ I would have asked what your favourite restaurant in Manhattan is. I would have said that I’ve got some frequent flyer miles and holiday time just waiting to be used, and I want to take you out to dinner. That’s how soon I knew I wanted to be with you.”

“Harry,” Louis exhaled, his eyes sparkling, a true smile emerging. “You never--You didn’t tell me that.”

“When I first saw you...When you first opened the door, I heard the song This Magic Moment by The Drifters in my head. It started up, like I was a human jukebox. And that’s one of my all-time favourite songs. I think it’s..." Visible heat rushed to his face, air stuttering out of his lungs. "I think it’s a really special song, alright?”

“And for it to just,” he knocked the side of his head with the carrots, “pop in there when I saw you,” he swallowed, squaring his eyes on Louis’ face, “that happened for a reason. That’s never happened to me before for anyone. Ever. I wanted...I wanted to kiss you,” Louis’ eyes widened, “and I wanted to hold you and I wanted to learn everything about you, all because I saw your face.”

“Oh my God,” Louis whispered, covering his face with his hands. He laughed out, “Harry.”

“And now?” Harry’s fingers held onto the vegetables, but gently knocked against Louis’ hands away. “Now, after getting to...Getting to be with you in such a special,” his voice broke, his throat bobbing, “intense, amazing, perfect way…” He held Louis’ gaze, his biceps bulging beneath the sleeves of his tee. “If you think an ocean is going to stop me, then you haven’t been paying attention. And I know you’re much smarter than that.” 

A beat went past, an older woman walking between them to snag a bushel of radishes. Harry held his arms out, exhaling a big breath, his hair wild. 

“Right. So. All that said," he pushed both vegetables forward, "do you want beetroots or carrots with dinner?”

Louis seemed to think for a moment, their eyes locked and his expression neutral. He reached out and took the carrots and beetroots from Harry. He placed them back in their designated crates.

“You’re not cooking tonight.”

Harry’s lips rounded.

“What?”

“We’re getting out of here.”

“We are?”

“Right now.”

“What about dinner?”

“I’m going to eat you for dinner. Fuck the vegetables.” 

He fisted the middle of Harry’s tee and pulled him into himself, searing their lips together. Harry hummed high through his nose, his face tilting involuntarily to press their lips tighter. Louis’ words whispered over Harry’s open mouth. 

“You can’t make speeches like that and expect me not to lose my mind, you simply cannot. Fucking hell. That adventure speech.” He kissed him again, Harry moaning softly and dropping his basket to the floor. “I’m gonna need a copy of that so I can stitch it onto a jumper to wear every day of my life.”

“Okay,” Harry breathed out, nodding, kissing him again. “I’ll have to try and remember what I said.”

“I’ll have to learn to sew.”

The old man in need of plums creaked by with his trolley. 

“Leaving your blasted basket in the aisle,” he said on a loud sigh, his cart bumping Louis’ arse. “Rude, rude boys.”

Louis continued to kiss Harry, his hands clutching the back of his long hair and his eyes blissfully shut, Harry’s tongue licking into his mouth. Ravi’s voice could be heard hooting from across the store, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to do anything but kiss Louis in front of the canned goods aisle.

They broke apart to breathe, laughter stuttering out of their mouths. They started to walk towards the door with hurried steps. Harry snagged the bottom of Louis’ shirt and pulled him into his body. He walked backwards to grab his forgotten basket, Louis giggling. 

Harry attempted to stay next to Louis while returning his basket to the registers, resulting in his long limbs flailing wide and his feet stumbling. Louis laughed aloud and held him by a belt loop, pulling him upright. 

“So polite, you are,” Louis teased, squeezing his hip. “Come along, rude boy.”

Harry reached out and brushed his fingers over Louis’ back.

“Shit, I got dirt on you. From the--I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t care,” Louis smiled wickedly over his shoulder, “I’m not going to be wearing it for long.”

Ten steps from the exit, Harry blurted out, “I want to hold your hand.”

Louis’ brows arched, his steps slowing. 

“Is that the song you’re hearing now?” He put his hands on his hips and stepped up to Harry. “I love that one. It’s a classic.”

Harry shook his head.

“No, I legitimately want to hold your hand. Like, when we walk around. In public. For more than just a second. Is that,” he studied Louis’ shocked eyes, “okay with you?”

Louis’ face crumpled with a stifled laugh, his teeth snagging his bottom lip. He held his left hand out and nudged his fingers against Harry’s knuckles. Harry’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, their hands joining between them, their fingers lined up to squeeze.

“Why didn’t you say so?”

“I dunno,” Harry said, bashful and flushed. His cheeks felt hot, especially when Louis’ lips pressed against his cheekbone. “It seemed silly to ask. And we've been sharing a lot, so.” He huffed out a breath, his stomach tingling and his smile wobbly. “Figured now’s the time."

“Everytime I see you, I get sweaty like I’m a school boy with a crush, which makes no sense.” Louis’ eyes flickered with heat. “We’ve been inside each other more times than I can count. I just didn’t want to humiliate myself with my gross hands.”

The automatic door pinged open.

“You have lovely hands,” Harry stroked the top of Louis’ hand, “and I have actual dirt on mine right now, so you’re in good company.”

They both laughed and ran into the sunlight, their joined hands swaying forward and back.

…

Louis cried out, “Oh, fucking fuck, Harry!” as his body was flipped onto his back.

The room spun, sweat stinging his eyes. He could register the bounce of his mattress and the diagonal position of his body, Harry’s hands digging into his outer thigh and the flesh between his shoulder blades. 

Harry was on him within half a heartbeat, long legs pushing himself up the mattress, Louis whimpering, “Harry,” and squirming against his firm, sweat-slick body. Their eyes locked and Louis’ mouth gasped wider, a whimper sounding from the back of his throat, Harry entering him in one smooth, slow motion. 

Louis’ arm shot out sideways and knocked his lamp off the bedside table, Harry’s thrusts propelling him even higher up the mattress.

…

“Lou--Louis--I’m--”

Louis rasped, “So close,” over his words. Harry’s leg shot straight to the bottom of the bed, the ball of Louis’ foot digging into his calf. “So fucking close, baby.”

Louis jerked him faster and Harry squeezed around his cock, bucking into his fist. Louis’ arm tightened around his chest, pulling him to his body and pinching his nipple between his fingers.

Harry’s body shuddered wildly before he spurted up to his stomach, Louis’ fist clicking wet and fast as he stroked him, Harry whimpering and squirming backwards.

“Fuck, I--” Louis gasped and pressed his face behind Harry’s hair, his hips pistoning into Harry’s clenching, slick heat. “Fucking--”

“Magic sex,” Harry whispered, biting his bottom lip with his eyes shut. “Came at the same time.” He squeezed around Louis’ cock, able to feel come dripping between his cheeks from around Louis’ cock. “Christ, Lou.”

Louis panted for a moment, his body going limp against Harry’s back. He hugged him with both arms, the pads of his fingers traveling over Harry’s sweaty chest. Harry’s hand flattened on Louis’ forearm, his palm rubbing over his skin. Louis thumbed his nipple, kissing behind his ear.

“You were so fucking sensitive today,” he said softly. He dragged his fingers down the centre of Harry’s stomach. “Nearly came from a couple of my fingers.”

“I nearly came just from the thought of your fingers,” Harry said, his voice airy. 

He cuddled backwards, their bodies still joined and come squelching between them. Louis hitched the duvet up to his shoulders, only adding to the cozy warmth overtaking Harry’s body.

Harry murmured, “I feel like I could come again if I think too much about how you prepped me. Fuck.” He smiled and rolled his head on his pillow, Louis kissing along the deepest curve of his neck. “Your fingers. You’re--” 

Harry laughed and scrunched his shoulder up, Louis buzzing his lips beneath his ear.

…

Later that night, Louis brushed his nose through the top of Harry’s hair, taking small breaths along the crown of his head. Harry rested between his spread legs on the sofa, their thighs lined up. He was a warm weight against the front of his body, the back of Harry’s head on Louis’ chest and his feet propped against the opposite arm of the couch.

Louis’ navy blue duvet rested over them, pulled up to Harry’s chest. It was borderline in need of a wash, but Harry couldn’t stop pressing his nose into the material; it smelled like both himself and Louis at the same time.

Louis twirled a thick curl around his index finger, hugging Harry’s hips with his inner thighs. He pressed a kiss to his temple, his feet tucking under the bottom’s of Harry’s shins.

“Comfortable?”

“The most comfortable,” Harry voice murmured, low and heavy. He nuzzled his head backwards, Louis’ hand continuing to rub his stomach underneath his soft gray v-neck. His stomach ballooned under Louis’ palm. “The food’s making me sleepy, though. Gonna doze off. So warm.”

Louis looked at their collection of Chinese food boxes and discarded chopsticks, containers of dipping sauce scattered around the coffee table. They had ordered enough food that the delivery man gave them ten sets of utensils in their bag. An uneaten fortune cookie rested on the centre of Harry’s chest, Louis still able to taste sweet dumpling sauce on his lips.

Harry’s hand flattened over Louis’ hand on his stomach, gently lacing their fingers together. Louis smiled into his hair, Harry’s stomach muscles clenching beneath their joined hands. 

“So much for beets and carrots,” Louis said on a sigh. “I hope a nice family came in to adopt them for dinner after we gave them such hope.”

“And the lamb shanks.”

Louis moaned quietly.

“That’s what you were going to make us?”

“Mmhmm. Braised in red wine,” Louis groaned over his words, Harry laughing out, “with polenta and smoky spinach.”

Louis’ hand pushed Harry’s tee up to his nipples. He lightly stroked from his left nipple to his right.

“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten a lamb shank before, only admired them from afar on cooking programmes. They’re so pretty, like meat lollipops.”

Harry traced the vee of Louis’ thumb and index finger on the hand still resting against his stomach. 

“Well, then. We’re all set for our Sunday roast.” His eyes twinkled up at Louis, his head tilted backwards. “Lamb shanks it is.”

“With carrots,” Louis pressed a soft kiss to his lips, “beetroots,” then his cheek, “and polenta.”

“Don’t forget the spinach.”

Louis grinned.

“You’re reminding me to eat my greens? How old are we?”

Harry giggled, “You like spinach,” and Louis kissed him again, Harry’s nose crinkling against Louis’ chin.

"True."

“Spiderman kisses,” Harry murmured, Louis kissing his top lip. Harry settled himself against Louis’ chest and tilted his head towards the television, the pads of his fingers tracing the Louis’ knuckles as his hand rested on his stomach. “That meal sounds perfect.”

“You planned the menu,” Louis laughed quietly, stroking around his navel. “Genius chef. Imagine if we lived--”

His lips sealed shut, the corners upturned. Harry peered at him upside down.

“Hm?”

Louis’ eyes traced over Harry’s face.

“If we...” He started to smile wider, his words slowing. He licked the corner of his lips with a quick flicker of his tongue. “Lived together.” Harry’s smile took his face over suddenly, a small squeak sounding behind his perfect, shining teeth. Louis scratched back of his hair, his smile fond. “We’d have the guys beating down our door for Sunday roasts. That’s what I was going to say.”

Harry blurted out, “Let’s live together,” and spun around on the sofa, his elbow landing hard on Louis’ stomach.

Louis exhaled a gasped, “Okay,” with the tiny breath that remained in his lungs, his arms wrapped around his middle and his smile tight. 

Harry’s jaw dropped.

“I’m so sorry!” He pried Louis’ arms away and massaged his fingers under his shirt, which prompted Louis to start laughing and coughing, his body spasming on the sofa and his abs crunching beneath Harry’s fingers. Harry lifted his hands, his eyes frantic. “Oh, shit, I’m so sorry!”

“You can add _Take My Breath Away_ to the L Mix,” Louis said on grunted exhales, his face lighting with a small laugh. “And you asked why you’d be the one to break your ankle.” Harry did not laugh, his eyes growing wider and his hands returning to Louis’ abdomen, massaging more gently. “I’m fine, baby, I’m fine.”

Harry squirmed to lay sideways, his body wedged between Louis and the back of the sofa. He pulled the duvet up to their chests, his eyes still darting down to Louis’ stomach.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m quite fond of your stomach,” Harry said, wrapping his arm over Louis’ hips. He pulled him closer, his hand flat on his lower back. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Louis said. He took a few deep breaths through his nose. “I kneed you in the nads two nights ago in my sleep. I’d say we’re even.”

Harry looked down at his groin, a phantom ache ghosting over his balls. He blinked rapidly and brought his eyes back to Louis’ face. Louis smiled at him, soft and sweet, his hand rubbing Harry’s cock through his joggers.

“So…” Harry swallowed and stared into Louis’ eyes for a moment, clear blue somehow making his whole body feel red hot. “Are we talking about this? I’d really like to talk about it.”

“I think it’s been pretty implied for a while,” Louis said, sliding his hand under the back of Harry’s tee. His fingernails dragged ever so lightly up and down his spine, his bare feet wedged up against Harry’s ankles. “It’s a logical place to go. Especially with all the talk about a dog and such. Even if it's not for a while, we can’t exactly get a dog if we live in two flats. It wouldn’t be fair to the dear.”

Harry nodded, “I agree. Plus, if we lived together, then our friends wouldn’t think we’re sex maniacs.” Louis laughed at that, his head thrown back. “At least,” Harry smirked, “they wouldn’t have any hard proof.”

“Hard proof?” Louis giggled out, squeezing Harry’s right arse cheek. “You’re too much. You’re right, though.” He pecked Harry’s nose, Harry tilting his chin up to snag Louis’ lips for a beat. “No more planning for privacy. We could do whatever we want, whenever we want.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“You seemed quite excited at the thought,” Louis said, his lips twitching. 

Harry’s face flushed, his laugh muffled by Louis’ neck.

“I’ve been thinking about it a while.”

“Wow, Styles. You get to hold my hand and ask me to live with you all in one day.” Louis patted his bum, Harry’s laugh louder and vibrating against his collarbone. “What a day for you.”

“Shush,” Harry said, pulling his smiling face up. He opened their lips together, both smiling wider into their kiss. “I was nervous.”

“You really thought I’d say no?”

“It’s another step,” Harry said, shrugging his right shoulder. He cuddled closer, both of their feet wedged in the crack of the back of the sofa and the cushions. “We’d have to talk about bills. Money. Budgets.”

“All not fun things.”

“Right.”

“Somehow,” Louis squinted, “I can see you making bill paying fun.”

Harry’s eyes darkened, his smirk sending bolts of heat up his spine. 

“I do all my monthly bills in the nude.”

The image of naked Harry hunched over an abacus and wearing tiny spectacles at the edge of his nose danced in Louis’ head.

“See?” Louis snapped his fingers, his laugh delighted. “You’re already making this an easy choice. And it’ll be a breeze to move in together, since, you know,” his eyes curved mischievously, his thumb dragging beneath Harry’s waistband, “we’ve been sort of designing our hypothetical flat for ages.”

He smiled wider and Harry grinned, pressing his face into Louis’ neck. 

For a good month and a half, they found themselves wandering into home goods stores whenever they were out and about. They never discussed why they were entering the buildings, but both gravitated inside the cozy, homey stores. They would mysteriously have an hour to kill near an Ikea, which would lead to conversations about wall colour schemes--

 

_“I’m more into neutrals, to be honest.” Louis lifted two paint chips up and studied them, his eyes serious. “They seem to age better. Less likely to look old and dated.”_

_Harry slipped his paint sample of bright magenta back into the rainbow of cardboard rectangles._

_“I never would have guessed.”_

_Louis bumped their hips together._

_“You said you like the colours in my flat!”_

_“I do. It’s all very zen and I’m all about airy, open design. I’m just saying.” He bopped Louis’ nose. “A little bit of blue or green here or there wouldn’t kill anyone. Or purple.” He picked up a sample of varying purple shades, from the deepest grape to the softest lavender, and turned it towards Louis, his eyes batting innocently. “I love purple accents.”_

_“My duvet is blue, thank you very much, and your duvet is white! You have no room to talk. But,” Louis pursed his lips forward, lining up the purple sample with his own creamy tan, “I suppose these colours could work well together. Purple is very regal, when done right.”_

 

\--and sofa size--

 

_“It’s got to be big enough for two to lie down together comfortably.”_

_Louis sat on the deep violet sofa. He bounced his bum three times before kicking his legs up on a pale, beachwood coffee table positioned in front of it._

_“Completely agree, Sugar Plum.” Harry pulled him horizontal, their legs tangling and both grinning. “The sofa has to be able to handle your legs for days, too. That’s a must.”_

 

\--and how practical having an extra bedroom was for guests.

 

_“Then one room could be kind of crazy, you know? Like, more eclectic and with more colours, since it wouldn’t disturb your sleep.” Harry picked up a drawer organizer and turned it upside down, checking the price on the back. “It could double for storage, if it has its own closet. Storage is very important.” He replaced the organizer and moved on to sea glass hued soap dishes. “You could even have little towels and mini-soaps for your guests, like a hotel! I love tiny toiletries.”_

_Louis took the soap dish out of his hands, rubbing his thumbs over the smooth surface._

_“This is nice,” he murmured to himself, placing it in the top of his trolley, prompting a pleased sound from beside him. He continued to push the trolley, Harry pulling a loud paisley shower curtain across its display rod. “But what kind of crazy colours do you have in mind? Why do I feel like I’d come back from picking up milk and find you painting one of your shirt patterns onto the walls with your toes?”_

 

Little comments would drop about an unnamed, unacknowledged home’s structure. Harry would prefer a kitchen layout similar to Louis’ flat--

 

_“But you love the island in yours.” Louis checked the price of a spatula with the end shaped like a duck. “You use it all the time! We eat there, more often than not. That makes no sense.”_

_Harry added a duck spatula to his basket, trailing behind Louis as he examined stainless steel drying racks._

_“If it had my island, but with your space and cabinets and fixtures, we’d be in business.” Harry passed him by, continuing to speak softly. “And your windows. You’ve got the best living room light I’ve ever seen.”_

_“Aw, bless. That’s kind of you to say. I think your bedroom gets the best light, though.”_

_Harry smirked over his shoulder._

_“That’s because I’m such a shining star in your life.”_

_Louis laughed, “Very true,” and spanked Harry’s arse with the spatula, Harry cackling and hurrying ahead towards flatware._

 

\--But with roof access similar to his own. Louis liked the dark hard wood floors of Harry’s flat, but could not deal with the tininess of his one bathroom.

 

_“It’s a must.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Nonnegotiable. I absolutely could not function in a flat with only one toilet. Never again.”_

_“Do you need an en suite, though? That adds price to the flat.”_

_“Yes,” Louis said, nodding firmly. He stroked over the soft white material of a stack of bath towels. “I don’t want to have to walk in front of my guests to take a piss or have a shower.”_

_Harry lifted a towel from Louis’ pile, examining the turquoise stitching along the edge._

_“And a guest bath, as well?”_

_“Full guest bath. If you’re having a guest, they should be comfortable, you know? Not have to deal with my shampoo collection if we’re sharing a shower.”_

_“I’d think the lube in the shower might be more jarring.”_

_Louis shrugged, refolding a towel._

_“Depends on the guests. They might appreciate the foresight.”_

 

Other details might have been thrown around on various shopping trips. An inlaid marble cutting board on the kitchen island to match the marble counter tops. Brushed steel appliances and two ovens for big cooking jobs. 

A small office that could house a desk, a couple of bookcases, and an overstuffed arm chair by a window with enough light to read and sip tea. 

A king sized bed and straight across headboard made of white, tufted leather with a coffee stained frame that was somehow modern enough for Louis, romantic enough for Harry, and handcuff friendly all at the same time (and was also on sale at a shop near Harry’s flat last weekend). 

Simple, round white plates with a basket woven design around the edges would sit on top of their rustic dark wood dining table. The table would be rectangular and long, but still welcoming, the plates paired with thin stemmed wine glasses for a dinner party of eight, the dining area warmly lit by a chandelier made of refashioned mason jars and bottles.

Harry pulled his face up. Louis was already smiling sweetly at him, his eyes bright. He chuckled, Louis’ hand moulding to his jawline. 

“I know we’ve…Been hinting.”

“It’s natural.” Louis brought his hand to Harry’s blushing cheek, stroking beside his eye. “We spend so much time together. We’re always passing out at each other’s flats. I think I’ve left half my pants at your place, and I keep accidentally wearing your t-shirts to work. It makes sense, this step, don’t you think?”

“I do, I really do.”

“But,” Louis smile faltered a beat, “you love living with Niall. You love your flat and your roof access and being near Ed.”

“Same with you. Liam would murder me if I took you away. Zayn, too.”

“And it’s definitely nice to have a place to stay in two different locations when we have friends in each location. We couldn’t move someplace further from work, either.”

“Yeah, agreed,” Harry said, nodding. “I’d definitely want to stay near everyone. Especially if…” He bit his bottom lip. “With your job situation…”

Louis’ lips twitched downwards.

“I know,” he said softly. “I wouldn’t want us to move away from everyone and then have me move, too.” He stroked Harry’s cheek. “That would be awful.”

“Right.”

Louis started to sit up, his eyes skirting from Harry’s gaze.

“Are you okay with moving in with me if I then have to leave? Maybe it’s not the best idea at this time.”

“Louis,” Harry said, catching his eye. He guided him to lie down on the sofa. “Do I need to make another speech? I can try to repeat one of them,” Louis started to giggle, his frown melting, “but I can’t promise I won’t start kissing you in the middle.”

Louis cuddled against Harry’s front, his face tucked beneath Harry’s chin.

“You don’t have to make a speech.”

“Can we start kissing anyway?”

Louis smiled and playfully slapped Harry’s bicep.

“We’ve having a conversation here, Romeo.”

Harry’s fingers ran through the back of Louis’ hair. He kissed the top of his head, cradling him in his arms.

Harry quietly asked, “Are you sure that you’d want to go through a move if you have to leave? That’s a lot of work and stress. Might not be worth it.”

Louis lifted his face, a snort escaping his nose.

“Of course it would be worth it. I’d get to live with you.”

Harry smiled shyly.

“Oh. Okay.”

“Simon hasn’t given me any sort of timeline, but I’m going to guess I won’t be transferred for at least,” he scrunched his pouting lips to the left, “six months, minimum, based on when I’m guessing the Manhattan location itself will be physically ready.”

“That’s a good amount of time,” Harry said, his eyes glowing. He held Louis’ face in his hands, sucking a soft kiss to his lips. “Would take you through the holidays.”

“Right,” Louis said, his vision going hazy. They kissed again, Harry’s tongue even softer, Louis’ head limp in Harry’s hands and his eyes fallen shut. “Even if I only have a few weeks notice before I have to move, I’d want…” Louis moaned quietly into a kiss, sliding his hands over Harry’s hips. “To spend those weeks with you.”

“Yes, please,” Harry breathed, both exchanging kisses for each statement. “I’d want to wake up with you.”

“And go to sleep with you.”

“And say goodnight to you every single night. In person.”

“Even if only for a month or whatever it ends up being,” Louis finished for them. He licked his lips. “It would be worth it to me. We’re lucky we have notice at all, you know? A lot of people probably don’t get that sort of notice, or aren’t in the position we are to make a move like that comfortable for both of us.” He seared their lips together, then pulled back an inch to whisper, “Mmm, you taste like dumplings,” against Harry’s mouth.

Harry smiled and laughed softly, resting his head on his hand. 

“Financially, would it work? You splitting your time in two places?” Harry bit the corner of his bottom lip. “London and New York City are both so expensive.”

Louis exhaled and relaxed on his back, Harry peering down at him. 

“Well, after harassing poor Dolores in HR and buying her lunch, I kind of got the idea that any sort of promotion, VP included, will give me enough to support two flats. As long as you kicked in partial rent for our place here and my current investments remain on track, it could be a good real estate investment for us.”

Harry’s eyes widened, his torso lifting slightly. His mouth gaped open for a long beat.

“Jesus Christ, how much money do VPs make?”

Louis chuckled.

“Enough. They’re well paid. I’ll leave it at that until I get the contract.”

“You have investments?”

“When you grow up with nothing, you don’t fancy the idea of living that way again.” Harry's eyes sagged and his mouth opened, but Louis gave a small shake of his head and pushed onward. “That’s another conversation for another time. We have enough on the agenda tonight.”

“I understand.”

“Dolores mentioned that they’re setting up staff housing in New York to help keep moving costs low, which will help me manage...” Louis’ brows inched inwards, his smile confused. He looked down between their bodies. “Oh my God, did you get a little hard thinking of me having money?”

“No,” Harry said too quickly, shaking his head, angling his hips away. His lips trembled to remain straight. “I swear.”

Louis squeezed his sides.

“You little gold digger!”

Harry laughed and squirmed against the back of the sofa, Louis kissing over his face as he giggled and trembled. 

The taunt held no heat. Both were aware of Harry’s financial security, despite refusing any assistance from his family once he was on his own. And they both were living below their means with an eye towards the future, Louis especially conscious of budgeting.

The duvet wrapped around their ankles, Louis slotting his knee between Harry’s legs.

“How about this,” Louis said over Harry’s laughter, softening his squeezes. He kissed Harry’s smiling lips, rubbing their noses together, Harry’s hair tickling his forehead. Harry smiled into another kiss and melted into him, wrapping his arms around Louis’ back. “We both can talk to Liam and Niall about the potential of moving out. Privately. Roommate to roommate.”

Harry nodded.

“I like that idea a lot.”

“And then we can start to actually, properly look for a flat.”

“You mean instead of browsing Foxtons on your iPad and forgetting to clear the history?” Harry asked, smirking. “Or texting me links from Right Move,” he made air quotes, “by mistake.”

“As if you didn’t,” Louis made even larger air quotes, “accidentally get the address wrong for a couple of our dates and took us to open houses.” Harry snorted, Louis eyes scanning around his living room. “As I was saying, we both currently have nice places to live, so it’s not the end of the world if we can’t find someplace.”

“Absolutely. There’s no pressure, and we do have a sort of long list of wants. It’s okay if we take our time.”

“Exactly.”

“I’ve always wondered,” Harry propped himself up on his elbow, “how come Zayn and Liam don’t live together? They’ve been together forever.”

“A couple of reasons. One,” Louis ticked off a finger, “Liam and I were living like monks up until about two years ago.” At Harry’s confusion, Louis elaborated, “We shared a one bedroom, a truly shitty one bedroom in Finsbury Park, when we finished uni.”

“What!?”

“Yep. I used the living room as my bedroom and Liam took the actual bedroom. We did it to save money. It really worked out in our favour, as awkward as it might have been at times.”

“How on Earth did you manage that?”

“I grew up the only male with my mum and sisters. One toilet, one mirror, one shower. Living with Liam is like a vacation. And now you understand why I don’t want to go back to living in someone’s pocket,” he patted Harry’s crotch, “as nice as your pockets may be.”

“Ah, right, the two toilet rule.”

“It’s a good rule, I promise,” Louis laughed, looping his leg over Harry’s hips. “It’ll save us a lot of stress, I’m sure of it. Reason two,” he ticked another finger, “is that Zayn likes his privacy and is a complete mess at his flat, which drives Liam insane.”

“Really?” Harry laughed, his brows shooting up. “I had no idea Zayn was messy. He always looks so put together, though that makes sense why he’s never had parties at his place.”

“Yeah. It’s not messy, like, dirty or unclean. He’s reasonably clean. He has his art and paints all over the place, and it’s a tiny, tiny studio anyway. Doesn’t even have a proper kitchen. Liam only goes there to sleep. Otherwise, they’re always here.”

Harry hummed and propped his hands behind his head, eyes scanning from the high ceiling to the flatscreen on the wall.

“I wonder if Niall could take your room, like, if you were to move out. Then he wouldn’t be alone and Liam could hold onto your sweet flat.”

“Niall would be a good candidate. He’s familiar with the sounds of two men banging each other’s brains out. He’d fit right in with Liam and Zayn.”

“Oh God, nevermind,” Harry giggled, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t subject him to that. The last time we heard them going at it will haunt my days for the rest of my life.”

“Babe, ohhh, babe,” Louis whined on a loud moan, rubbing his body against Harry’s front. “Punish me, babe, I’ve been so naughty!”

Harry squealed and tried to get away from Louis’ sneaky fingers, laughing bubbling out of his mouth. 

“Fuck,” Harry giggled, his hair flopping in his eyes. Louis pushed his hair off his forehead, smiling into a kiss. Their lips slipped apart. “Do we sound like that when we have sex?”

“I only recall you calling me babe once, but it worked in the moment.”

Harry laughed again, resting the side of his head on the arm of the sofa. He cuddled under the duvet, Louis’ arm a gentle weight over his middle.

“So, we’re going to do this?” 

“I want to.”

“I want to, too.”

Louis held his gaze and raised his eyebrows.

“You’re sure you want to live with me? All the time?”

“Yes,” Harry nodded. “Absolutely.”

Louis started to smile, his lips slowly spreading wider.

“Even though I kick off my old socks under the covers and forget to tell you? And they get stuck at the bottom of the bed? And then you wake up screaming that there’s a mouse biting your feet?”

“That happened once,” Harry said with an uncontrollable grin. He kicked at Louis’ bare feet. “Once.”

"Once while I was present."

"Okay, fine. Twice total,” Harry said, giggling. “Still, not a big deal."

Louis placed one hand over his heart, his other hand over Harry’s heart.

“I promise to protect you from any mice we might encounter.”

Harry took Louis’ hand off of his chest. He wrapped it with both of his large hands, his doe eyes blinking widely.

“You’re sure you can live with me, even though I leave my smoothie glasses all over the place and then you have to soak them for a day to get them clean because they dry super sticky?”

Louis’ eyes twinkled.

“I think my favourite place to find one was in the shower.”

“Drinking smoothies in the shower is one of my favourite hobbies.”

“Lucky for you, I find washing glasses to be relaxing,” Louis said. He joined both of their hands. “And we’ll have a dishwasher in our flat. It’ll be a non-issue.”

“Well, then,” Harry said, his tone airy as if he was brushing his hands together after finishing a project. “It looks like we’re all set.”

“Looks like it.”

They both stared at each other, their smiles growing and their hands squeezing. They were breathless and buzzing, even though they were lying horizontal on a plush sofa. Their lips brushed together, Harry giggling before Louis kissed him firmer, both inhaling through their noses and cuddling closer.

The door to the flat opened, Liam and Zayn’s voices filtering into the room. 

“Hey, mates,” Zayn called out, dropping two paper shopping bags on the kitchen table. The door slammed, boots clunking on the floor. Harry and Louis’ eyes remained locked, their smiles blissful and their faces soft. “Alright?”

Liam bounded over to the living room, falling to his knees at the coffee table. He ripped his leather jacket off and threw it on the floor, Louis and Harry breaking their stare to laugh at his dramatic fling.

“Oh my God,” Liam’s wide eyes flew over the table, “did you get the dumplings from the good place? Can I eat them? Please, please?”

“We got the dumplings from the good place,” Louis repeated. He held his hand out. “Have at it.”

He and Harry watched amusedly as Liam shoved two in his mouth at once, his cheeks puffed out. They sat up straight, the duvet wilting over their knees to the floor. Harry took a fortune cookie off the sofa and cracked it open, munching quietly. Louis reached to the coffee table and pushed a small container of bright red sauce towards Liam. 

“Dipping sauce, too.”

“Sweet Jesus, thank you,” Liam said, his mouth full. He jutted his thumb over his shoulder. “This one decided to have a movie montage length shopping session and I’m starved.” He crushed a fortune cookie in his hand and threw the crumbs into his mouth. “Wouldn’t even let me get a pretzel.”

Zayn appeared behind him, laughing with crinkled eyes. He sat next to Liam on the floor, stealing the last dumpling. Liam’s mouth popped open and he spun around, reaching above Zayn’s head.

“You’re so full of it,” Zayn said, holding his hand higher. Liam got up on his knees and reached for the dumpling. “We were only out a couple of hours. Niall and Ed should be here any minute, by--Babe!” He started to huff laughs, Liam tackling him to the floor. “I should have gotten you that bloody pretzel, for fuck’s sake!”

The door clicked open. 

“The party has arrived,” Niall sang as he glided through the doorway. “Ed’s getting beer down the street.”

Harry squeezed Louis’ thigh under the blanket and whispered in his ear, “You were right about the sitcom thing.”

Louis smiled while listening to Niall’s fast chatter in the background, Liam and Zayn wrestling in front of the television. He hid his face in Harry’s hair.

“Stay over tonight?” he whispered. “Wanna cuddle you.”

“Of course,” Harry said, still whispering. Liam and Zayn popped up from the floor, both out of breath but smiling. “Whatever you want.”

“We’ll have to prepare for Fuckfest Fifty-Two,” Zayn said, lifting noodles from a container with his fingers. He sucked them into his mouth, his shiny lips pursed towards Louis and Harry. He licked his index finger. “Ready the plugs, babe.”

“Why do I feel like you’re not talking ear plugs?” Niall asked, Harry and Louis bursting out laughing. “See what having gay best friends has done for me? I’m fucking worldly.”

“We did that already,” Louis said, smiling at Harry’s flushed face. “A little after work stress relief.” He glanced at Zayn and Liam, smirking. He tucked his chin on top of Harry’s head, his arms wrapped around Harry’s middle. “You’re in the clear. You’ll have to wait until the next Fuckfest.”

“Have you really heard us have sex fifty-one times?” Harry asked, baffled. He handed Louis the last piece of his fortune cookie. “How is that possible?”

“It’s inaccurate,” Louis said while chewing. “Totally false.”

Niall threw himself on the centre of the sofa, both Harry and Louis grunting under him.

“I’d say that’s a fair number,” Niall said, propping his socked feet on the coffee table. He leaned forward. “Ooh, is this up for grabs?” He licked his thumb and slapped it into a take out container. “Ha! Too late. You snooze, you lose.”

Harry and Louis wiggled out from under him as Niall shoved an egg roll into his mouth.

“Cold egg rolls made me queasy,” Zayn said, now using chopsticks on his vegetable lo mein. “They get all congealed, you know?”

“I don’t know what congealed is, but it must mean delicious,” Niall said with his mouth full. He squirmed, Harry on his right side and Louis on his left, his head on Louis’ shoulder. “What are you two watching?”

“Nothing, really. Something about flipping houses,” Louis said, kicking his duvet off his legs. He tucked his foot under his bum, Harry folding his duvet and placing it to the side of the sofa. “Feel free to change it.”

Liam’s hand shot out to grab the remote. Zayn sidled up next to him, their ankles linking together in front of their bodies. He pointed it at the television. Liam, Niall and Zayn all gasped, their eyes focused on the screen.

“Oh, sweet,” Liam said, settling with his back against the coffee table. He slid his arm around Zayn’s narrow shoulders. “A Friends marathon.”

Zayn and Liam started to hum along to the theme song, their heads bobbing side to side in rhythm.

Harry and Louis met eyes over Niall’s hair, both smiling with their lips closed. Their hands linked above Niall’s thighs, Harry’s bottom lip twitching and the corners of Louis’ eyes wet. 

Niall burped and lifted their joined hands, egg roll grease slipping under his fingers. He kissed their fists and offered both a blazing smile. He held their hands on his lap, cuddling backwards into the sofa.

An iPhone vibrated on the coffee table, nudging into a bowl of cooled egg drop soup. 

Harry patted his back pocket and said, “Yours.”

Louis bent forward and grabbed his phone. He sat back and unlocked it, propping both bare feet on the edge of the sofa, his knees bent beneath his face. He read over the screen, Harry’s eyes straying from Friends every few seconds to glance at Louis. 

Louis shook his head, smiling to himself. Harry turned towards Louis, Niall leaning forward to pick up the bowl of soup.

Harry extended his arm along the back of the sofa.

“What is it?”

Louis turned his iPhone screen towards Harry. Harry took the phone from him, holding it inches from Louis’ hand. He read over the email.

**L,**

**It’s done. You should receive the official offer by Monday, though I ask for your discretion until then. So excited for your future at Simone.**

**Lovely breakfast chat with you this morning. It’s too bad we’ll have to leave that food cart behind in a year or so. I rather enjoyed that sandwich.**

**Did I mention that construction in Manhattan has been delayed? Zoning laws. You’ll thank me when you see your new office. I hope you don't mind heights.**

**Best,  
S**

**Sent from my iPad**

Harry looked to Louis and found him to be already grinning at him, his eyes shimmering even more wetly. He dropped Louis’ phone on the sofa and stretched out over Niall, capturing Louis’ lips. 

“Oi, human here,” Niall said, lifting the bowl of soup in the air. 

Louis held Harry’s face in his hands and pulled him closer, their lips loudly slapping together and Harry’s body stretched across the entire sofa.

Liam looked over his shoulder and laughed, “Uh oh, lads.” He deepened his voice. “I think we all know what time it is.”

“Fuckfest Fifty-Two!” Zayn cried as if he were a wrestling announcer, lifting both fists in the air. “Fuckfest!” He started to pump his fists. “Fuckfest!”

Niall and Liam joined him to chant, “Fuckfest! Fuckfest!” while Niall bounced his legs in time.

Harry and Louis stopped kissing to laugh. Harry collapsed over Niall’s lap and buried his head in Louis’ thighs, Louis resting the back of his head on the sofa with his hands over his burning face.

“I usually prefer to be present for two women going at it, but,” Niall shrugged, “you’re both so pretty I could maybe ignore what’s going on downstairs.”

All five of them laughed louder, Liam rolling on the floor and clutching his stomach.

“We’re not going to have a Fuckfest,” Louis said through his laughter, flicking tears away from his eyes. “We’re...Happy about something.”

“How happy?” Zayn asked, giving Louis’ crotch a pointed look. “Bit close there, Harold.”

“You all have filthy minds,” Harry said, his words muffled. He lifted his head up, grinning at Zayn. “Absolutely filthy.”

“It’s been a long day, that’s all,” Louis said, stretching his legs. He took a deep breath, sighing it out. He ran his hand over his face, exhausting settling and weighing down his entire body. “I’m mentally shot, to be honest.”

Harry looked up at him.

“Wanna go to bed?”

“Kind of, yeah.”

“It’s not even nine,” Liam teased from the floor. “God, you two are old.” He blew a raspberry at them. “Two old farts.”

“Yep, that’s us. Two old farts,” Harry said, standing up. He took Louis’ duvet and draped it over his right arm. He carded his fingers through Niall’s cotton-candy hair. “Don’t eat too fast or you might get a belly ache.”

Niall hugged Harry’s leg, rubbing his cheek on his outer thigh. Liam and Zayn lifted their hands to wave, both staring intently at the screen as Ross and Chandler tried moving a sofa down the stairs. 

“Fuck, Chandler is the man,” Niall laughed, releasing Harry from his hug. 

Louis squeezed Niall’s shoulder and shuffled away from the sofa.

“I’ll clean this up tomorrow,” he yawned, stretching his right arm over his head. “Can’t be arsed. Fuck,” another yawn overtook his body, “I’m sleepy.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Liam said, cracking open a fortune cookie. He tore his eyes from the screen to shoot Louis a smile. “No worries.”

“Aw, thanks, Li Li,” Louis said, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. “You’re a superhero."

Niall added, “I’m going to finish everything off to minimize the cleanup,” and picked up a container of fried rice.

“That’s teamwork,” Zayn said.

“Night, boys,” Louis said.

They chorused, “Night,” back at him.

He should have expected Harry’s arms to loop beneath the backs of his thighs and around his upper back, but he still exhaled a surprised, quiet giggle when his body was swept up off the floor. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck, his ankles crossing as he floated into his hallway. He pressed his lips to the junction of Harry’s shoulder and neck, able to tell from the motion of his jaw that Harry was smiling.

“Harry?”

Harry looked down at the small, quiet murmur of his name. He smiled and pressed their lips together, Louis’ fingers scratching the back of his hair. They reached his bedroom door.

“Yeah?”

“Did I mention that I bought that bed we liked so much?”

Harry's steps halted, a watery, bubbled laugh popping out of his mouth.

“What?” he laughed, breathier, his head involuntarily shaking side to side. “No way.”

“Yes way." Louis' cheeks rounded, his eyes glittering mischievously. "They’re keeping it at the shop until we want to pick it up.”

Harry’s mouth gaped open.

“When did you buy it?”

Louis’ lips twitched, his ankles rolling mid-air.

“When you ran to Starbucks to have a wee.”

“That day!?” Harry whispered, kicking Louis’ bedroom door open. “You bought it that day!?" He bundled Louis tighter in his arms, spinning them in a circle. "You little sneak!”

“Yeah,” Louis said, resting his cheek on Harry’s shoulder. The skin beside his eyes wrinkled, his long lashes swaying. “I kind of did.”

Harry shook his head with a wide smile, pressing their lips together.

“You’re too much.”

Louis giggled, “I’m a mind reader, you know that,” as Harry shut the door behind them.

In the living room, the three men all laughed in unison. There was a knock at the door. Liam popped up from the floor and ran backwards into the kitchen, keeping his eyes on the screen. He opened the door and said, “Hey, man.”

Ed stepped inside.

“Hey, what’s--” He was drawn to the television. “Oh shit, is this the pivot episode?”

“Yes!” Liam laughed, running back into the living room.

Ed walked quickly behind him, placing a fresh beer in between Niall’s spread legs. Niall rubbed his stomach, the button of his jeans undone and his shirt hitched up to his mid-ribs.

“Here you are,” Ed said, holding two beers over the coffee table. 

Zayn grabbed them without looking away from the screen.

“Cheers, man.”

They watched Friends for a moment, sipping their beers. 

“Where’s Harry and Lou?” Ed asked.

“They went to bed,” Niall said.

"Ah."

Zayn added, “Allegedly,” and winked at Liam.

A quiet hissing noise could be heard from somewhere in the flat. Liam lifted the remote and turned the volume up, the bar on the bottom of the screen increasing nearly to the maximum. Ed’s eyes slid from man to man, the television blaring.

“Um…” Ed raised his voice. “So, what’s with the volume?”

“They’re taking a shower,” Liam said without looking away from the screen. “Sounds like the mist setting.”

“Told you it was allegedly,” Zayn said.

“What?”

“Fuckfest Fifty-Two,” Niall said, groaning the word. He rubbed his distended belly. “Shit, I ate too fast."

“What’s Fuckfest Fifty-Two?”

Niall’s head rolled along the back of the sofa to grin at Ed.

“Don’t ask questions, just watch Friends.” He held his hand up, motioning the sign of the cross. “And may God have mercy on your soul for the next episode and a half.”

…

Harry held the front door of Louis’ flat open.

“After you.”

“Thank you,” Louis said, reaching his arms as high above his head as he could. He tilted his head side to side. He giggled, “Hey,” and lowered his arms, Harry’s fingers gently prodding his ribs. “I’m awake.”

“Where do you want to run today?”

“Back up the stairs and into bed. I will literally run onto the mattress and then go limp.”

Harry kicked his leg forward, twisting his torso in the opposite direction. His hair swayed with the motion, a rainbow unicorn headband holding it off his forehead.

“I was thinking we could do a big loop to that park with the swings, then come back and get iced coffees from that place on the way to your flat.”

“Ugh, is this what living with you will entail? Mandatory morning runs?”

Harry gripped the front of his ankle and lifted it to his bum, stretching the top of his thigh, his smile sleepy.

“I thought you liked running now?”

Louis pulled his arm across his chest, his eyes sagging shut.

“It’s five in the morning.” He switched arms. “I don’t like anything at five in the morning.”

“What about me?” Harry grunted and lifted his joined hands above his head. He pouted a tiny smile, his sides stretching beneath his loose black tank. “Do you like me at five in the morning?”

Louis’ his hip quirked towards Harry. His grumbles came out more and more like purrs the longer he watched Harry stretch and jump around in his running clothes.

“I’m out here, aren’t I?” Louis said, ducking his smiling face down. He slid a black headband over his hair. “Maybe I’m out here for the iced coffee.” 

Harry chuckled, “Yeah, maybe,” from beside him, bent over with his fingers touching his toes. 

Louis bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, his trainers giving him an extra boost. He glanced at Harry’s arse.

“Maybe I’m out here to watch your junk flop around in your running shorts, too.”

That pulled a proper laugh from Harry, the sound gruff but pleasant in the humid, early morning air.

They finished up stretching and popped their earbuds in, their phones strapped to their outer biceps. They turned towards each other and counted down, “Three, two, one,” before both pressing play on Harry’s personally curated running playlist. David Bowie’s _Let’s Dance_ started to play for both of them, their opening pace easy.

They ran down Louis’ block and made it two buildings from the end of the street when a small white blur caught their eye.

“Oh shit, it’s Blueberry,” Harry said, both of them racing towards the sprinting puppy. “Come back, babe!”

Harry’s long legs brought him to the dog first. He scooped him into his arms. Louis caught up, his hands on his hips and his stomach ballooning outwards. He pulled his earbuds out.

“It’s the little wolf pup,” Louis said, holding the back of his hand out. “He’s so cute, oh my God.” Blueberry sniffed him once before starting to lick, Louis grinning and massaging the top of his furry head. He cooed, “Hello there, Blueberry. You’re the sweetest little berry in the whole garden, aren’t you?” His eyes darted to Harry. “Blueberry?”

“His owner let their daughter pick the name and apparently that was her favourite food at the time.”

“Aw,” Louis drawled, itching Blueberry’s ears. “It works for him.”

They walked the puppy back up the stairs of his building. The front door was open, a group of men approaching with a large mirror. Harry and Louis stepped back, letting the men go by and take the mirror into a waiting truck.

Harry opened his mouth and looked at Blueberry, then saw Louis’ knowing smirk and stopped.

“What?”

“Were you going to ask the dog where he lives?”

“No,” Harry scoffed, though he was smiling. “Maybe.”

“He lives here,” an exhausted voice said inside the building. They stepped inside. A woman in pale blue scrubs appeared in the doorway to the left of the main entrance, her dark hair in a high ponytail. “Hello, Harry, my puppy saviour. I was about to run out when I saw you got him. I can’t thank you enough.” She hid her tanned face with her hands. “I’m officially the worst puppy mum ever.”

“Morning, Olivia,” he said, handing Blueberry over. “You’re a fine puppy mum.” He scratched Blueberry’s belly. Blueberry opened his small mouth on Harry’s fingers, mouthing playfully at his skin. “He’s a feisty one.” His hand flattened on Louis’ lower back. “This is my boyfriend, Louis. He lives a few buildings down.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said, offering him a tired smile. She lifted Blueberry higher in her arms, cradling him like a baby. “This one naps all day, but whenever I leave to get to the hospital he has a fit. I opened the door to get the newspaper and he darted out.”

“Nice to meet you, as well. You’ve got the cutest puppy I’ve ever seen.”

Olivia smiled and jostled Blue, his nose sniffing under her jaw.

“You hear that? Louis thinks you’re cute!”

Louis and Harry looked into her flat. A small girl with wild black curls stood in the doorway, a Frozen nightgown reaching her pigeon-toed feet. 

“Mummy, where’s Blue?”

They both smiled at her, Louis’ smile widened when she took the dog in her arms, stumbling backwards. Olivia bent over and whispered something about going back to papa, giving the girl a pat on the bum to send her back into the flat.

“We’ll let you get back to your morning,” Louis said, he and Harry pulling their eyes away from the open floor plan and generous windows of the visible snapshot of Olivia’s flat. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” Olivia said, leaning on the half open door. She pulled the strap of a pocket book over her shoulder, shutting the door behind her. Two men walked by with a couch held between them. Olivia raised her eyebrows and loudly said, “Someone keeps leaving the door open,” throwing a wink at Harry and Louis.

“Sorry, miss,” one mover called over his shoulder, bumping the sofa into the doorway. 

“Someone’s moving?” Harry asked, the three of them following the movers out.

“Yeah, the family on the top level. The Smith’s. The whole building is upset to lose them. They’re the sweetest people, but Angie’s pregnant and there’s not enough room for them. They’ve got two kids already and it’s only a two bedroom.”

“Ah,” Louis said, he and Harry glancing at each other. He felt sweaty for some mysterious reason, though they had barely ran a block. “That’s too bad.”

A mover walked by with an overstuffed eggplant arm chair, both Harry and Louis following him down the stairs with their eyes.

“It’s a shame, too. They’ve got the whole floor and it’s a gorgeous space. Their new house is divine, though, very country-chic and only--Ah, shit,” she checked her watch, “I’ve got to run. Sorry!” She gave them both a once over and chuckled. “Though I suppose you two have to run as well.”

“Ha, yeah,” Harry said, nodding. He waved at her. “Have a good day saving lives!”

“Will do!” she said, taking her keys out of her purse. She turned away from them and clicked the keychain, an alarm wailing from the navy blue SUV. The high pitched sound struck a chord of recognition in them, Louis’ nose twitching involuntarily. Olivia muttered, “Ah, shit, this fucking thing, every fucking morning,” and slammed the door shut.

They watched her pull away, moving men carrying a chest of drawers down the stairs. Harry and Louis lingered at the foot of the steps. 

Louis spoke first, his hands in his running shorts pockets and his face directed at the top of the building.

“Shame that family has to leave this neighbourhood. There’s so many cool spots nearby.”

“Yeah, and it sounds like they had a nice place." Harry wrapped one of his earbud cables around his fingers. "A nice flat.”

“Yeah.”

They glanced at each other, Harry biting his bottom lip and Louis’ face clenched.

“Is it insane for us to follow the moving men to take a look at their flat?” Louis blurted out, starting to laugh mid-sentence. Harry’s giggles joined his laughter. “God, I’m insane, right? They probably already have people moving in.”

“I was thinking the same thing, mind reader. Let’s have a look.” Harry held his hand out, smiling higher with the left side of his mouth. “If it gets awkward, we can pretend to work for the moving company and carry the lightest items out.”

They walked hand in hand inside. There was a stone staircase leading into the building, but a large lift met them instead of a winding staircase to the higher floors.

“Fancy,” Louis whispered, stepping inside.

Harry hit the button for the seventh floor.

“Lucky number seven,” Harry said, the doors pinging closed. “Why do I feel like if we lived here, you’d completely forget how to use stairs?”

“You wouldn’t be able to torture me with cardio anymore.”

“I’d find a way to keep your heart rate up on a daily basis.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Louis laughed, bumping their shoulders together. “I knew you’d say that.”

The lift opened at the end of a hallway. Thick khaki carpet stretched along the floor, the walls painted a soft blue with crisp white crown moulding. Skylights lined the airy, Mediterranean designed hallway. 

They walked down the hall towards an open, dark wood door. The wall surrounding the door was painted a more vibrant, cerulean blue, a woven tan welcome mat in front of the flat. 

Their hands linked together. Harry knocked gently on the doorframe, Louis peeking inside. 

“Hello?”

A blonde woman appeared from the side of the door, bubble wrap bunched in her hand. She was slender, dark skinny jeans clinging to her legs and an oversized white Oxford billowing around her, a thin gold chain around her neck matching her gold gladiator sandals.

“Hi! Are you here for the plants?”

“No, we’re not,” Louis said, Harry shaking his head.

Her eyes fell to their joined hands, her classically pretty face scrunching inwards. Her toothy smile came suddenly, a tiny gap between her two front teeth.

“Are you the nannies for later this morning? Wow, your agency wasn't joking when they said you'd be punctual! I don’t need you until eight, but you’re welcome to hang out and have breakfast with us.” She walked into the flat, calling over her shoulder, “I think I’ve only got cereal, unfortunately, but there’s plenty for everyone! Kids should be up any minute. We’re earlier risers.”

They stepped inside, then stopped, their mouths falling open in unison.

Floor to ceiling windows stretched over the furthest wall of the living room. The room was about the same size as Louis’ flat with a similar view, though the view seemed so much more vast due to the higher floor and taller windows. The sun was higher in the sky since they started their run, bathing them, and the open floor room, in orange hued sunlight.

“We’re not the nannies,” Louis said, his voice lost in the back of his throat. “We’re, uh...Harry and Louis. I mean, I’m Louis,” he thumbed sideways, “this is Harry, and we…” He swallowed and squeezed Harry’s hand, Harry’s face wilting happily with his eyes glued to the chef’s kitchen off to the right of the space, all white cabinets and dark wood floors. “We’re actually curious if you’ve found a new renter, yet?”

“Oh, um, no, not technically,” she said, walking towards them. She left the bubble wrap on a breakfast bar stool, three total pushed against the furthest side of the island. “How did you…”

“Uh, Olivia mentioned you were leaving. Olivia from downstairs,” Harry said, tearing his eyes away from the kitchen. He whispered, “Inlaid marble cutting board on the island,” to Louis, offering the woman a dimpled smile. 

Louis said, “This is a huge intrusion and we normally wouldn’t sneak into someone’s flat, but we’re really interested in staying in this neighbourhood and it seemed too good to be true.”

Her green eyes sagged.

“I know, I love this area.” She smiled sadly, her hand resting over her stomach. “I love my kids more, though, hence the move. And my husband needed more space.”

“Congratulations on your child,” Harry said, nodding downwards, Louis adding, “Olivia told us.”

“Aw, thanks so much,” she chuckled, rubbing her stomach. “David’s hoping for another boy. He’d have me birth a five-a-side if we could manage it.”

“Is he here?” Louis asked with a small laugh, glancing down a wide hallway with even more sunlight spilling through skylights.

“No, he travels a lot for work,” she said, grabbing a photo from a bookcase near the door. She handed them the photo of her family. “He’s, as ridiculous as this sounds, sort of a rocket scientist? I know,” she held her hands out, “who is actually a rocket scientist? But he is, so he’s always flying all over the place doing whatever rocket scientists do.” 

Louis held the photo between Harry and himself. Her husband was a handsome, Mark Ruffalo type with thick glasses. Their two children in the photo, a boy, no more than a year old, and a girl, around four years old, shared Dave’s dark hair, but had Angie’s fair skin and freckles. 

“Really,” Louis said, his eyes darting to Harry. “Does that...How does that work? Him being out a lot?”

She gestured for them to follow her as she walked further into the living room.

“We make it work. This building is wonderful, our neighbours are like family, and I’m lucky to have help from nannies when needed. We’ve gotten to take a lot of crazy holidays in exotic locations where Dave worked, which I adore.” She wrinkled her button nose at them, smirking. “I’m not much for all inclusive resorts for every family holiday. I’d rather have an adventure if not working, you know?”

“Yes,” both men said, their heads nodding in unison, their eyes glancing excitedly at each other.

“When we met, it was like...I knew I’d do whatever we had to do to make him happy,” she laughed, “as sappy as that sounds. Sometimes something happens and everything changes. I can’t believe how fast the last ten years have flown by.”

Again, Louis and Harry could only say, “Yes,” and nod, their faces both burning.

“I’ll show you the garden first,” she said with a smile, pushing luxurious mint grey curtains aside. Harry’s eyes widened when the curtains revealed a large glass door, Angie sliding it open. “My husband’s favourite place. He’s a big gardener. Nearly creamed himself when he saw the property of our new home.”

She stepped outside and held her arms out, fresh, foggy London greeting them.

“Here we are.”

Louis and Harry continued to hold hands as they stood frozen in the middle of the enormous terrace. The floor was made of dark outdoor tile, a collection of white linen couches and chairs scattered within the plant lined walls. 

Harry’s hand squeezed Louis’ hand so hard their bones cracked.

“Oh my God,” Harry whispered ever so softly, Louis’ hand squeezing back.

Vibrant green speckled with bursts of colourful flowers surrounded the entire patio, which wrapped around the exterior of the building. There was an additional seating area off to the left, accessible by two wide stone steps. There was a small round table with two chairs on the smaller terrace, a steaming cup of tea sitting on the centre of the table. Stainless steel railings sat on top of the stone walls, encircling the entire outdoor area.

Angie’s voice gently rattled off, “It’s technically a two bedroom, but has a small office that can work as a bedroom, if needed. We redid the kitchen last year and I could kill myself that we’re leaving it behind, but our new house has pulled me from the edge. David knew it would take a lot to get me out of the city.”

“This building is very private, since we’ve got our own floor, and you can make tons of noise without anyone even noticing. The lift is a bit weird, sometimes is out of service for a day or two, but that’s the only real building downside I can think of. Seven floors is a lot to lug groceries.” 

She turned to them with her hands on her hips, smiling wide, sunlight bursting behind her. 

“Do you want to see the bedrooms? Tony is probably ready to get up and Scarlet could sleep through an earthquake. Or you could roam the kitchen, if you’d like. Two and a half baths, by the way.”

“Sure, yeah,” Louis said, nodding. He brushed his fingers over Harry’s lower back. “Do you want to look at the kitchen?” He smiled at Angie, his hand wrapping over Harry’s hip. “He’s a chef, so he’s got a few needs for wherever we move in.”

“I...I…” Harry’s mouth flapped open, his eyes still trying to take in every inch of the outdoor paradise. “Can I…”

“Feel free to take your time,” Angie said, smiling knowingly at Louis. “I know the deck is basically the star of the space.”

“It’s…It’s…”

Louis laughed and patted Harry’s cheek.

“I think he needs a moment.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Angie said, tilting her head to the left. “There’s an entrance to the master suite from the other side of the patio. Shall we,” she hesitated for a beat, her nose crinkling, “Louis, right?”

“Very good,” Louis laughed, stepping to her side. “Good memory.”

He followed her up the steps of the patio. The smaller seating area sat in front of a pair of glass French doors, the airy master bedroom visible behind billowing white curtains. 

Angie pulled the door open. Before he stepped inside, Louis leaned back and caught Harry’s eye, mouthing, “Oh my God.”

Harry’s stunned brain registered the comment, a wide smile stretching over his face.

Louis followed Angie into the master bedroom, which was as perfectly decorated as the rest of the home despite moving men coming in to remove bits and pieces of furniture.

“Pretty sweet that your bedroom leads outside.” 

“Yeah, we love having breakfast out there when the kids are still sleeping,” she said dreamily. “It’s our own little holiday every morning. Even when it’s cold, we love it.”

She showed off the three closets of the master suite, including her custom built walk in closet. Harry would approve of the comfortable storage available. She seemed to be a shoe girl, colourful heels resting on an inlaid shoe rack between rows of dresses and suits. 

Louis ran his hand over the back of his sweating neck. 

Numbers were flowing through his brain. The flat was nearly the same size as his own, only with a small extra room and some minor upgrades. While the bedrooms were comparable to other spaces he’d checked in on, this flat boasted a higher quality of living plus the deck. 

He would still be living in the same zone, which would mean no increase in his commute to work, and, even when low balling his salary increase and highballing what he estimated rent would be, he could swing it.

“This whole place is like a dream,” Louis said. “Your taste is exquisite, love.”

“Aw, thanks! It’s too bad we’re just meeting as I have to move,” she giggled, adjusting a pair of sparkly champagne pumps. “You two seem like you’d be fun friends.”

Louis chuckled and followed her out of the closet. 

“When is your lease up?”

“Not until October, actually,” she said, opening a door at the very end of the master bedroom. Louis’ face slackened, the ensuite featuring two sinks, a stone tiled shower larger than his own, and a rectangular soaking tub. “But my doctor recommended that I get all the moving business done sooner rather than later. I'm due in January but Dave, being Dave, insisted we move into the new place by the fall to make sure I’m comfortable.”

“That’s lovely of him.”

“He’s a jewel among men, that’s for sure.” She stepped aside, a moving man picking up a standing cabinet from between the sinks. “Except when he books a moving crew from another time zone, doesn’t realize the error, and emails me last night, saying to expect a group of burly men at my door before the sun even rises.”

They both laughed, Angie pointing a moving man to a stack of boxes labeled TOWELS.

“So, this room is insane,” Louis said, turning in a circle. “Your whole place. I want to applaud at this tub.” She laughed loudly, walking out of the shining bathroom. “You two must have watched an unhealthy amount of home and garden television.”

“You might be right.” Her steps sped up, her face directed to the bedroom door. The sound of whimpering carried through the hall. “Shit, I think I hear Tony.”

Louis followed her down the hall. He glanced into the open door of a very pink bedroom, a little girl sprawled over the bed with a Disney princess duvet wrapped around her. 

Angie called, “That’s what used to be the office, by the way. Scarlet heroically gave up the bigger room when Tony came along.” They walked through the living room to the other side of the flat. “Tony’s room could be a guest room. It has a bathroom next to it but it’s just a toilet, sink and shower, no tub.” 

He watched Angie dip into another bedroom. The room was of decent size; it had more windows than his own bedroom, the walls painted a muted pumpkin and cream. 

Angie lifted Tony out of his crib, bouncing him in her arms.

“Hello, my little wonder,” she whispered to him, turning towards Louis. She quietly chanted, “Tony, Tony, pepperoni,” over his squirmed whimpers, his body calming in her arms. “This is our new friend, Louis,” she whispered, her eyes twinkling. “Can you say hello?”

Louis smiled at the baby, lifting one hand to wave.

“Good God, he’s a cutie,” he whispered, Angie snickering into Tony’s hair. "Let's see..." He squinted at Tony's sleep flushed face. "Fourteen months?"

"Yes," Angie said, surprised. "Good eye."

Louis' phone buzzed in his pocket. As Angie laid Tony on a changing table, he read over the text. 

“Oh, uh, Harry said there are some guys here for plants? On the patio?”

“Ah, shit,” she said, lifting her hands from Tony. The boy’s legs kicked at the table, his hand sucked into his mouth. “I need to, erm,” she pursed her lips to the side, quickly wiping Tony down, “help them. Shit. Dave is such a pain about his plants and this moving company has been horrible. I’m so paranoid they’ll mess up something.”

“Want me to finish up for you?”

Her eyes widened at Louis, her smile stunned. Even Tony was silent, his stubby legs frozen in air.

“Are you seriously volunteering for nappy duty?”

“I’ve got four little sisters,” he said, cracking his fingers in front of him. “This’ll be a good refresher.”

She burst out laughing, rubbing her hands with a baby wipe.

“You’re sure? Totally sure?” He nodded and stepped up to the table, Tony peering curiously at him. Angie gave him a one armed hug and dashed out of the room. “You’re a saint, and hopefully not a crazy person. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“No problem,” he laughed, grabbing a fresh nappy.

He finished Tony with ease and buttoned his red and white striped onesie. Tony started to squirm on the table, Louis picking him up and cradling him against his body.

“I bet you’re starving, yeah?” he whispered, his voice extra breathy. “Let’s go see if mummy has a bottle ready for you. Maybe some,” he gently wiggled his fingers into Tony’s stomach, “Tony, Tony, pepperoni?”

Tony started to giggle loudly, Louis grinning and bouncing him on his hip. He turned towards the door.

“Lou, have you seen the en sui--”

Harry stood in the small bedroom doorway, his face slackened and his eyes round. The boy had dark hair, his eyes a clear blue, his cheeks rosy and his nose a perfect little slope. Louis held the small boy to his side with such ease and comfort, the boy’s striped onesie so similar to one of Louis’ most worn shirts when kicking around the house. 

Louis bounced Tony again and stepped closer, an easy smile lighting his face.

“I know, right?” Louis whispered excitedly. “That tub!” He spun around, Tony cackling. “That kitchen!” He spun again, finding to be Harry still as boneless and silent in the doorway. “And that deck, hm? We should take the place for the deck alone. We can throw scarf parties every night and have tea outside our bedroom every morning.” 

When Harry said nothing, his fine features even more dulled and dopey, Louis smiled wider. 

“What, are you hearing a song right now or something?”

“Something like that, yeah,” Harry exhaled.

“What song?”

Harry’s cheeky smile returned slowly, his eyes starting to focus again.

“I’ll tell you when we’re thirty.”

Harry reached out and stroked Tony’s chubby cheek with the back of his long fingers. 

“Who is this?” Harry asked with bright eyes, his voice soft, as if he was afraid to disturb Tony’s tiny ears. Tony grabbed his fingers. He quietly rasped, “Oh, you’re so strong,” and let Tony swing his hand around. “What a strong little lad.”

“This is Tony, Tony, pepperoni,” Louis said, giving his voice extra depth and bravado. Tony laughed and reached for Harry’s hair, pulling his head down. Louis giggled, “Oops,” and pried Tony’s hand out of Harry’s curls. “He and I have a lot in common, I guess.”

“I’m sorry! He probably thinks you’re Dave,” Angie said, appearing beside them. Her hair wilted out of her high bun. “He sees curls and goes nuts.”

“It’s quite alright,” Harry said, smiling wider when Tony pulled his hair again. 

He studied Louis with Tony in his arms, Louis offering him a small smile. Their breathing synced up, their chests both ballooned outwards to breathe deeply. Tony tugged his hair. Harry chuckled, wetness springing in the corners of his eyes. He swallowed and looked to Angie.

“May we have your listing agent’s name, please?” Harry asked, his voice hoarse. He pulled his iPhone from his pocket and Louis exhaled a shaky breath, hiding it behind Tony’s sweet smelling head. “We’re very interested.” 

Louis hurried to add, “Very, very interested,” and nod, drool landing on his neck from Tony’s babbling mouth. He and Harry locked eyes, their faces softened by watery smiles. “The most interested.”

“The most,” Harry echoed, nodding.

Angie looked between Harry and Louis, her lips twitching fondly. Tony waved at his mother, babbling and smiling at her.

“I’ll get his card from the kitchen.” She jutted her chin to the side, her smile growing. “Come along, I’ll make us tea and we can have a chat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After writing this chapter and learning even a sliver about the London housing situation, I’m just so stunned at how expensive, complicated, and difficult it is (and I live near a super duper expensive city!). That said, this is a work of fiction, so let’s pretend that magic flats exist :)
> 
> [Potential new kitchen](%E2%80%9C) ;)...More like this vibe, not necessarily the exact structure.  
> . . .
> 
> Title is from my favorite Tegan and Sara song, [ Relief Next To Me ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yftgnkdan8%20)
> 
> Come say hello on [ LJ](http://dolce-piccante.livejournal.com) and [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com)


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a housekeeping chapter. Some important conversations, new friends, and a pinch of surprise emotional moments (and obligatory bits of smut). 
> 
> Warning: Minor recreational drug use and light bondage.
> 
> Please note that any celebrity cameos in this fic are total fiction, never happened, are meant to be strictly complimentary and in good fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all the readers and commenters and tumblr asks (Cass!) and everyone! Thank you for your patience and generosity. I really appreciate it! <3<3<3
> 
> Thank you to my fab friend H for coining a term that Gemma borrows in this story!
> 
> Thank you to Helen for an AMAZING giftset for the fic!! So honored! Can’t thank you enough for taking the time to make it, especially because all the gifs are so specific and perfect for the story.  
> [Amazing fic GIF Set by Helen here!](http://seplei.tumblr.com/post/108679263709/relief-next-to-me-by-dolce-piccante-haydolce)
> 
> Thank you to [Emmy](%E2%80%9C) for MAKING Le Louis chocolates! Omg I'm dying that you did it. These are fictional chocolates that I'm sure were impossible to make, so check out her hard work and recipe!  
> [ Amazing chocolate recipe by Emmy here!](http://theemmed.tumblr.com/post/111821194418/this-recipe-is-based-on-the-fic-relief-next-to-me)
> 
> Thank you to warrior [Jess](whitechimes.tumblr.com) for enduring such outrageously large GoogleDocs, listening to me babble about work schedule garbage, sharing my love of food celebrities, and being generally awesome!! 
> 
> I mention a few Bravo TV shows, such as The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills and Vanderpump Rules. All you really need to know about them is that they are so overdramatic and silly and kind of crazy and a total guilty pleasure.  Lisa Vanderpump  is from the BH Housewives. At the top of each season, the housewives have a new introduction line. And thus concludes my attempt at explaining Bravo shows.
> 
> Enjoy! :D

“Holy fuck. Does mum know?”

“Yes, in fact, she does,” Harry said, giving each word a slight stress. “We Skype with her at least once a week together. His mum, too.” He sipped his mojito through a straw. “We wouldn’t spring something like that on either of them. It’s a big change.”

Gemma’s head recoiled on her neck, her open mouth screwed up in a frown.

“Excuse me.” She gently kicked Harrys shin under the table. “Why was I not included on your Skype schedule? Do I have to enroll somewhere online? Is there a waiting list?”

“Excuse me,” Harry drawled over her, tilting his head and grinning, “but you’re usually jetsetting around the globe, bringing your gift of fashion to the world. Not exactly the best for Skype times.”

“That’s such bullshit.” 

The scrunching of her eyebrows caused a laugh to bubble out of Harry’s mouth, Gemma’s matte red lips falling open. 

“Stop laughing!” she said, chuckling despite her plea. “We Facetime all the time!”

“So?”

“So,” she pointed her champagne flute at him, “why haven’t I gotten to see this perfect boyfriend of yours yet? Even Papa and Nan have met him.”

Harry swallowed a gulp and said, “Not face to face,” with ice crunching in the back of his teeth.

“Met in the,” she swirled the glass dangling between her long, narrow fingers, “virtual sense.”

Harry dabbed the back of his hand over his lips. 

“He only met them because we Skyped mum on her birthday when she was in Paris with them and Robin.”

“So? Still doesn’t explain his reticence to meet me. In the virtual sense.”

“Louis works a normal person schedule. You and I Facetime because I’m always up and about at crazy early hours or getting out of the bakery in the middle of the work day. Besides,” a touch of mischief lit his face, “I’ve talked about you so much I think he’s kind of petrified of you. More than he was to meet mum.” 

Gemma squawked a laugh, her eyes wide.

“What!?”

“Which is making this all so amusing for me,” Harry said, touching the centre of his chest. “He’s usually calm and collected, while you’re usually the,” he swayed his head slightly, “cool rockstar of the Styles family. Yet here you are,” he started to grin wider, “getting all huffy because you’ve never met my boyfriend.”

“Okay, fuck you,” Gemma said, back to her normal lazy drawl. Harry started to laugh, his eyes crinkling and his head tilting back. “I’m still the rockstar in the family.”

“I dunno. Dad posted a picture of himself in leather trousers on his Instagram the other day. He’s giving you a run for your money.”

Her brows inched inwards.

“Dad has an Instagram?”

“I like that you’re more shocked he has an Instagram versus leather trousers.”

“Leather trousers are coming back in,” she said, shrugging and sipping her champagne. Her long, dusky blonde hair cascaded over her shoulder. “They’ll be everywhere next year.”

“Good to know.”

They both sipped their drinks, a waiter stopping by to refill their water glasses. 

“Is this...” She squinted at Harry, wrapping a strand of hair around her index finger. “Soon?” She pressed her lips together for a beat, tugging on her own hair. “Fast? Living together? Isn’t that a big thing?”

“I don’t think it’s too fast. Mum and Robin were married after only six months together. Louis and I have been official for that long, and known each other even longer. It’s not like we’re moving in tomorrow. It’ll be at least a month before anything happens. Probably longer.”

“Did you tell Niall?”

Gemma’s tone was hushed, as if Niall was sitting at the table behind them.

“No, not yet. We have to talk to our friends about it. We’re still waiting to hear back from the place we want.” He ran his thumb around the rim of his glass. “Leasing agents are kind of the worst. Lucky for me, Louis is very good at dealing with contracts and constant emails, plus dad said he’d look it over before we sign anything, and--God, how old are we?” 

He laughed quietly, Gemma smiling at him. Harry watched a crowd of teenagers run past the restaurant, cackling and hooting about something as they galloped. 

“I’m complaining about leasing agents," Harry said. "We’ll be talking about weather and traffic next.”

“You mentioned mum and Robin. Their timeline. Which only makes me wonder...Are you ready to get married?”

Harry’s eyes snapped to her face, his lopsided smile sudden.

“You’re such a sneak.”

“It’s a valid question. You’re moving in together, which is like,” she sighed, “a prelude to you becoming one of those annoying people who brings their baby into a pub and then gets mad when I curse in front of the child.”

“I think you’re possibly projecting a touch,” Harry said, pinching his fingers together in the air. Gemma’s eyes narrowed at him with her lips twitching. “Besides, if I had a baby, I’d never bring them to a pub. I’d want to keep that fresh, new baby smell going for as long as physically possible.” A smile smoothed over Gemma’s face, her brows arching. “And we’re just now scratching the surface of living together.” Harry took a quick sip of mojito. “I wouldn’t buy your bridesmaid gown yet.”

“Bridesmaid? You’re joking, right? I’m wearing a tux.” She held her palm flat under her chin. “I do androgynous well.”

“You really do,” Harry said on a small laugh, nodding. “You look better in a suit than I do.”

“I dunno if I’d go that far. You got the good legs gene. Ugh,” she wrinkled her nose, “you and the whole ice chewing thing is so annoying.”

“Thanks,” he said, grinning and crunching ice at the same time.

She sighed and leaned her elbow on the table, cradling her face in her hand. Her oversized black jumper slouched off her shoulder, revealing a thin black strap.

“I can’t believe you’re going to live with someone before I live with someone. That’s so strange to me. I’m the older one. I used to do everything first.”

Harry snuffled a laugh and sat back. His knees were spread wide with his boots touching on the floor.

“It’s a bit hard for you to live with someone when you’re usually kicking rock stars out of your hotel room before you fly to yet another fashion week.”

“They can be quite clingy. Always whining and trying to play me songs on their guitar. For some reason, they think me saying goodbye means, ‘Please waste another hour of my day.’ Don’t they understand that I’m on a tight schedule and don’t have time for unfortunate chord progressions?”

Harry cackled, Gemma laughing along with him.

“I can’t believe mum was okay with it without meeting him. I mean,” her long eyelashes fluttered quickly, “I believe it with your whole Skype routine and whatever. But I figured she’d want to make a big thing with a dinner and engraved invitations and that string quartet she loves to hire.”

Harry shrugged, spinning his glass on the table.

“We’re not really into that. We’d rather meet each other’s family in an organic way. Not force everyone into one room for the sake of saying we’ve all met.”

“How progressive.” She finished her champagne with a graceful swig. “What’s he doing right now?”

Harry checked his watch.

“He’s at work.”

“Until when?”

His eyes slowly slid to Gemma’s face.

“Why?”

“Invite him to join us. This can be organic!”

Harry huffed out a breath. The drama of his sigh was negated by his growing smile. 

“He’s working late today,” he said, turning his mobile over on top of the white table cloth. “They’re finishing up some big campaign. He won’t be able to come.”

“Then what’s the harm in texting to check? For fuck’s sake, Harry. You’ve been dating him forever and you don’t get that you’re supposed to invite your boyfriend places?” She smiled up at the waiter and accepted a new glass of champagne. “Thank you, love.”

“No, it’s not that at all. We go to plenty of places together, thank you very much.” Harry nudged her foot under the table. “And it hasn’t been forever. A few months--”

“A few months of magical, bliss filled passion.”

Harry’s face flushed bright red, his mouth agape, and Gemma smirked, reaching for his phone.

“C’mon, I’ll message him.”

“You’re insane!” Harry held his phone to his chest. “I can text my own boyfriend, thanks.”

“Unless he’s imaginary.” She framed her face with her hands, her eyes wide and her head tilting. “Oh. Is Louis’ real name Spaghetti?”

“I’m going to tell mummy you’re being a brat,” he said, putting an extra childish waver in his voice. He sniffled, Gemma snorting into her glass. “He’s probably going to text back and say he’s busy, but thanks for...Uh…”

Her face leaned closer across the table. 

“Yes?”

“He said,” Harry’s smile widened, his voice slowing, “he just finished work and would love to meet you, if he’s not intruding or making me feel pressured.”

“God, you’re perfect for each other. Two goody-two-shoes.”

“He’s not a goody-two-shoes,” Harry laughed, sending a quick message to Louis with their chosen spot for drinks. “Wait until you meet him.” He lowered his voice to growl, “You’ll be terrified.”

“Didn’t you say that you two spent all day yesterday watching Kitchen Nightmares on your sofa and drinking tea?”

Otherwise known as one of Harry’s most favourite days. Ever. Of all time. 

A day that included a Gordon Ramsay marathon and a marathon sixty-nine session, both on the sofa. Their day concluded with Louis massaging his back until he fell asleep, drooling, on his stomach, Louis’ quietly snoring weight reassuring and warm on top of his body.

“Shut. Up,” Harry said, shaking his head, his eyes on his phone. “He loves Gordon Ramsay.”

“Who doesn’t?”

In the sixteen minutes that it took for Louis to get to the restaurant, Harry’s body produced about a gallon of sweat. The drinks that had given him a pleasant buzz were now sloshing around his stomach in some sort of liquid duel.

“I think I see your little terror,” Gemma quietly sang, a grin breaking across her face and her eyes crinkled at Harry. The door opened, the sounds of rush hour filling the quiet restaurant. “You’re blushing already. Fuck me.” She giggled, amused beyond belief, and nudged her sandal against Harry’s shin. “You’re totally gone for him, aren’t you?”

“This was a horrible idea,” Harry said, fanning his white tee away from his chest.

“Why is it that all members of the Styles family are so gorgeous? It’s simply not fair.”

The sound of Louis’ voice behind him sent bolts of heat through his body. Gemma stood from the table, Harry standing at the same time. 

Harry felt light fingers brush over his lower back, Louis’ warmth ghosting beside him. He watched Louis and Gemma embrace, long and tight and smiling, as if they had met millions of times.

“I’m so happy to meet you,” Gemma said, her voice as welcoming as a kindergarten teacher. Harry’s brows rose. “You’re even prettier than the pictures Harry’s shown me.”

Louis chuckled into her long hair, squeezing her tight.

“You’re sweet. I’m so happy to meet you, too. Finally.”

Gemma pulled back, her hand flat on Louis’ chest.

“Yeah?”

“Of course. You’re like the equivalent of Wonder Woman whenever Harry talks about you. A superhero amongst mortals.”

“You’re a charmer, aren’t you?”

“How do you think I fooled your brother into liking me?”

“I’m right here,” Harry said amusedly, his hands on his hips. “You can talk to me, you know.”

Gemma sighed and slung her arm around Louis’ shoulders.

“But I’d much rather talk to Lou, to be honest.”

Harry’s mouth popped open in horror, Louis muffling his laugh with his palm.

“I’ve actually got to visit the toilets before I sit,” Louis said, thumbing sideways. “I walked here straight from work, which was a poor choice in retrospect.”

Gemma squeezed his shoulder once before removing her arm.

“Hurry back,” she said with a smile, Louis’ cheeks pinking. “We’ll order you a champagne.”

“Perfect,” he said, eyes darting to Harry. His left eyelid closed in a barely there wink. “Back in a moment.”

Gemma and Harry sat back down at the table. They ordered Louis a champagne, Harry ordering another mojito and asking for a menu of their small plates. Gemma crossed her legs under the table, the toe of her sandal nudging Harry’s knee.

Harry ignored her, contemplating ordering a small plate of burrata and tomatoes. Her foot nudged his leg again and he looked up from the menu.

“What?” Harry asked, almost laughing the single word.

“Nothing,” she sang, her hands framing her face.

Harry went back to studying the menu. Gemma bit her bottom lip as she smiled, nudging his shin.

He put down the menu and drawled, “Whaaaat?”

“He’s cute. Very cute.” 

Harry’s mouth opened, the corners of his mouth stretching upwards. His neck shifted forward, as if to start speaking, but then he laughed breathily, sliding his fingers through his hair and looking down at the table.

“What’s wrong with you?” Gemma giggled, kicking his boot. “I say your boyfriend’s cute and you say nothing?”

“I know he’s cute,” Harry said, his eyes flickering up to his smirking sister. “He’s gorgeous.”

Gemma’s gaze arched towards the restrooms. 

“Lovely eyes and great skin. He’s compact. I never knew you were an arse man until now.” 

Harry rolled his eyes and buried his face in his hands. He peeked through his fingers. 

“If you call him compact to his face, you’ll see how not-cute his language can become. And please never refer to me as an arse man ever again.”

“He’s so…” Her eyes narrowed. “He’s what I imagined, based on what you’ve said, but he’s so different from your usual type. I’m kind of shocked.”

“What’s my usual type? I don’t have a type.”

“People who bathe quarterly and don’t believe in hair cuts.”

Loud laughter bubbled out of his mouth.

“That’s so not true.”

She raised her eyebrows, tipping her glass towards him.

“Harold. I’m your sister. I knew you had a crush on the Tarzan cartoon character before you even did. You like them long haired, dirty, and built." She hummed and swirled her glass. “Though, now that I think about it, you did have an obsession with watching that Peter Pan film mum taped off the telly.” 

Harry’s face went atomic red. 

“Always watching it on your belly, on the floor, with your face pressed to the screen." Gemma’ smile grew more wicked. "Maybe this makes more sense than at first glance.”

He whispered, “You promised never to tell anyone about that,” as Louis appeared at the other side of the restaurant. 

Louis sat down at the table, Gemma smiling into her glass and Harry shifting in his seat. 

“Cheers,” Louis said, sipping his champagne. He shivered and sipped again, smirking with his lips shut. “Mmm, bubbles.” He undid the top two buttons of his pale blue shirt and sat back in his seat. “This is a lovely way to end this day.”

Gemma made eye contact with Harry and made a locking motion at her lips, Harry’s mouth trembling not to smile.

“Long day at work?” Gemma asked.

“Sort of. Lots of tying up loose ends and triple checking things.” He took a long sip, his throat bobbing. “It can get tedious. You lose your mind at the end of each campaign because you’re focusing on the same materials over and over. You start to go a little mad.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Anyway, enough about my boring job.” Under the table, his hand slid to Harry’s leg, stroking the middle of his inner thigh. He offered Gemma a sunny smile, Harry’s leg swaying closer to his hand. “What’d you two get into today?”

Gemma stared at her brother, both Styles siblings sharing a similar warmth to their toothy smiles.

“Well, I surprised Haz at work this morning,” Gemma started. “I met Mister Tea and helped Helena frost some cupcakes.”

“Oh, nice,” Louis chuckled. “He’s a legend.”

“Gems had the day off because of some mix up with a flight,” Harry said, filling in the blanks. “She’s in London for today only and flies out,” he checked his watch, "in five hours."

“I figure, if I can ride my buzz for the rest of the day, I’ll be one tiny airplane bottle of white wine away from sleeping my hangover off for the flight to LA.”

“Ah, I see,” Louis nodded. Harry’s fingers traced over the top of his hand, light touches teasing his knuckles. “I respect your scheduling preparation. Though it’s too bad you’re only here for a day.” His eyes twinkled at her. “We could have gotten into some trouble, I imagine.”

“I agree.” Gemma reached over and rubbed Louis’ forearm. “I’ll have to plan a longer visit soon.” She directed her attention to her brother. “I think we managed to fit a lot in, don’t you?”

“I think so.” He nodded seriously, lips twitching. “We were very productive.”

Louis asked, “Yeah?”

“We had a proper heiress day,” Gemma said, grinning across the table and looking from Louis to Harry. “We did lunch, drank bubbly alcoholic beverages,” she lifted her glass, “went shopping, got pedicures with more bubbly, the whole she-bang.”

Harry’s cheeks coloured at Gemma’s blunt list, his thigh flexing beneath Louis’ palm, but Louis laughed brightly and rubbed his leg.

“That sounds amazing. I love pedicures. I go with my sisters sometimes.” He looked to Harry, his voice dropping in pitch and volume. “Will you show me what colour you got later?”

“No, no colour,” Harry laughed out, his face even hotter at Louis’ growing grin. “I got, like,” his hand flopped in a circle, “clear. Plain.”

“Aw, no pink or purple?” The skin beside Louis’ eyes crinkled. “Would have been pretty.”

“I said he should have taken the plunge, too, but,” Gemma shrugged, “he declined. Don’t think he could focus on colours at the spa, to be honest. He almost had the neighbours calling the police, he was laughing so much.”

Louis and Gemma started to snicker, Harry sitting up straighter in his seat. 

“Excuse me,” Harry said, fighting a wide smile. “They are literally scrubbing the bottom’s of your feet with brushes. How is that not supposed to make you laugh?”

Louis smiled, his hand running over Harry’s inner thigh.

“Heiress day,” Louis said, nodding and pursing his lips forward. “I like that term. I might have to borrow it.”

“I knew you’d like that term,” Gemma said, her smiling eyes arching between them. “And I knew I had to meet you today because Harry let it slip that he is now a Housewives aficionado, so thanks for that.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Harry said over her. He watched Louis laugh, his outrage disappearing and leaving a warm, gooey smile in its place. “Well...I guess I kind of know the character’s now.”

Louis looked at him and grinned, squeezing Harry’s knee under the table.

“Christ, you’re fond of him, aren’t you?” Gemma said. Harry glared at her as best he could with stars bursting from his eyes, Louis dabbing his tears away. “You too,” she pointed her glass at Louis, “completely shameless.” She sipped again, Harry and Louis exchanging a warm look. “You wanna know what he said to give himself away?”

“Of course,” Louis said, his eyes bright. “Please, do tell.”

“We had just gotten our first drink of the day. I held up my glass towards him.” She lifted her glass to demonstrate. “And I said,” she tossed her head back, her hair spilling over her shoulder, “‘Life isn’t all diamonds and rosé,’ and he answered, ‘but it should be!’ before I could finish the line! It was as if the magic of Lisa Vanderpump had been sprinkled over our table.”

Louis’ head tipped backwards to bark out a laugh.

“Oh my God, I take full blame for that,” he said, both Harry and Gemma laughing along with him. Louis reached over, running his fingers through the back of Harry’s hair. “It’s all my fault. He’s a saint to put up with my truly terrible television choices.” He wrinkled his nose at Gemma. “And I watch a lot of shit.”

“I don’t mind watching; they’re all entertaining in their own way,” Harry said, spreading his leg closer to Louis’ touch. “And they make you laugh, so it’s worth it.”

“Do you watch Vanderpump Rules?” Gemma asked, leaning over the table towards Louis.

“No, I’ve never watched. Is it good?”

“It’s incredible and trashy and I love it. I’m in the states a lot for work, so I end up marathoning it when I’m bored in a hotel room.”

“We’ll have to add it to the queue,” Louis said, patting Harry’s thigh.

Harry groaned through his smile, rolling his head on his neck. The waiter came to their table, checking on their drinks and dropping off a larger menu. The restaurant started to fill with dinner patrons. 

Louis asked, “What do you two feel like? Do you want to switch locations or camp here?” He looked between them and arched his eyebrows. “Do you want alone sibling time?” He held his palms out. “I totally understand if you do. Say the word and I’m gone.”

Before Harry could answer, Gemma laughed, “No way,” and gently kicked Louis’ shin. “You’re stuck with us for the rest of the evening, I’m afraid. Shall we get a bottle of something to save time?” She tapped her long, pointed, nude-painted fingernails on the black leather drink menu, her lips scrunching side to side. “Maybe some snacks?”

Harry said, “Sounds good to me,” and slid his hand up the back of Louis’ shirt.

“And I’ll never turn down snacks. I haven’t eaten since lunch,” Louis said, reading the small plate menu resting on the table. His hips involuntarily moved backwards, his back arching under Harry’s warm palm. “Ooh, they have a burrata. Anyone want in on that?”

Their order was placed and a bottle of pinot grigio appeared at the table. Glasses were poured and Harry sent Niall a quick text inviting him to join, though Niall’s reply of:

**can’t...C dramz :( <3 ya bro...have fun!!!! give my gal G a big hug for me (and L a messy smooch)**

made Harry frown as he thumbed back a quick reply. 

“So,” Gemma said, lounging in her chair. “What are your intentions with my brother?”

Louis and Harry’s heads snapped to her in unison, shock registering in Harry’s wide-eyed stare and Louis’ agape lips.

“Gemma,” Harry chided, chuckling breathily. He replaced his phone in his pocket. “This isn’t an interrogation. And we haven’t even gotten our food yet. Rude.”

“Harold, if you thought I wasn’t going to ask questions, your brain must be flying around Never, Neverland.”

Harry’s shock morphed to mortification.

“Um, please, ask away,” Louis said, raising his glass at Gemma. “I can take it. I appreciate your directness.”

“I think it’s natural to ask questions when you two had a bit of an,” the right side of her mouth quirked, “unconventional beginning.”

Louis barked out a laugh.

“Were you Harry’s emergency person? Like, the person he told details about where he was going for our meeting incase something went wrong? Liam was mine.” He squeezed Harry’s thigh. “I thought you told Niall?”

“Huh,” she said, stumped. She tapped her nails on her sweating wine glass. “Are anonymous blowjobs called meetings these days? I had no idea.”

. . .

Louis typed at a brisk tempo, his eyes on an open file to the left of his keyboard. He used his left hand to turn a page, his right hand still typing. A quiet tone sounded through his speakers; an email alert ghosted in the upper right corner of his Mac’s wide screen.

His mouse clicked on the email without having to look away from the file. He turned his head and glanced at the message, a general notification from Suzi about an upcoming bank holiday. He smiled to himself; he and the boys had not yet decided what sort of mischief to get into together for the long weekend.

“Lou.”

He looked up. Zayn stood in his doorway, silent and stone faced, his stomach heaving underneath his loose black v-neck. Louis’ senses heightened, a high frequency ringing in his ears.

“Shit, man,” Louis started to stand, “what’s the matter?”

Zayn stepped into the office and pushed the door shut behind him, the glass door gliding closed.

“Is it true?” 

“What?”

Zayn’s sharp jawline twitched, his hands bunching in the bottom of his jumper.

“You’re moving?”

Louis exhaled a shaky breath.

“Zayn--”

“Why didn’t you mention it to me? To Liam? Why didn’t--” Zayn’s arms shot out and pulled back into his body within a split-second, his fists clenched against his outer thighs. “Why didn’t you say anything to us?” 

“I told you both about the possibility of a promotion.”

“You said nothing about a transfer.”

Louis rounded his desk, Zayn’s breaths growing faster; louder.

“I didn’t know--

Zayn’s voice remained quiet, but vibrations shook his words.

“How could you not tell Li? Do you know what this is going to do to him?”

“Simon only told me about the transfer last week and--”

“Last week!?” Zayn laughed and leaned forward, his hands on his hips. “You’ve known since last week?” 

“I couldn’t say anything and I still am not supposed to say anything. What did you want me to do?”

“Says who?”

“Says Simon. He--” Louis quickly swirled his hand in the air. “He only recently got the ball rolling with the whole process. He isn’t even going to announce it until negotiations are done and it’s official.”

“When was that going to be? The day before you fly to New York?”

Louis breathed in through his nostrils, exhaling a smooth stream of air out of his lips. 

“I’ve had one weird lunch with the board and that’s it, so far. Nothing has been signed. For fuck’s sake, mate! I wouldn’t keep anything from you or Li--”

“Does Harry know?”

Louis’ mouth clammed up, his teeth grinding behind his lips. 

Zayn’s eyes flared, his chest puffing up. His voice dropped even lower, practically speaking in his vocal fry.

“You told Harry but not us?” 

“I told Harry because he doesn’t work here. I told Harry because he’s a neutral party in my corner, and I needed someone to bounce things off of to make sure I wasn’t losing my mind. I told Harry because I care about him and respect him and I wanted to tell him.”

“You could have told me, it doesn’t matter that I work here.”

“I know you wouldn’t have said anything, but I’m telling you, it’s all happening very fast. I wanted to make sure I had my ducks in a row before I--” Louis’ face scrunched. “Christ, why do you look so fucking horrified?”

“You could have told us,” Zayn said louder, his fists clenching at his side. “We would have been there for you. I wouldn’t have said anything to anyone.”

“Are you mad that I didn’t tell you? Or are you mad that I told Harry before you and Li?”

“I’m not mad.”

“Yeah. Right. I can tell from your,” Louis’ eyes widened as his fingers spread like starbursts on either side of his face, “glowing support with all this that you’re not mad. Not at all.”

“Alright, yeah.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m a bit sore that Harry found out first. There.” His chin jutted forward. “I said it.”

“Since when are you at all jealous?”

“I said sore, not jealous.” Zayn brushed lint off his shoulder. “Get it right.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Louis said, spinning and throwing his hands up in the air. “You know,” he turned back to Zayn, “you and Liam love to be cutesy and tease me about having a boyfriend, but then when I confide in my boyfriend about something I wanted to share with him, you act like I made some sort of horrible mistake. How fucking hypocritical can you be?”

“All I’m saying it that, if you were stressed, you could have come to us with anything. Anything! And we could have worked it out. I’m happy you’re happy with Harry. Honest.”

“And do you honestly believe that I’m happy with all this? I didn’t request the transfer, it was basically thrust upon me with no other choice. It’s the last thing Harry and I want.”

“And why’s that?” Zayn asked, his question more a statement.

Louis leveled his gaze on Zayn’s face, sighing once.

Carefully, he said, “We’ve been talking about living together--”

“Another thing you neglected to mention,” Zayn said loudly over Louis’ words, both fists clenching in the air in front of his chest. “Christ, a little notice! Even if you weren’t moving, you need to tell Liam these things! It affects his life, too, you know!”

“Fuck, man, give me a fucking break!” Louis’ arms and flexed hands shot out sideways. “If I had it my way, we’d all live in a building together with private flats, like a, like a--” His hands flailed outwards. “A friendship zoo! But that’s not reality right now! I’m trying my best to keep up while not disturbing everyone else’s lives!”

Zayn’s head shook side to side, his arms crossed tight over his chest. He bit the corner of his thumbnail, huffing bitter air out of his nostrils.

“Liam is going to be devastated.”

Louis stepped closer.

“Just Liam?”

Zayn ran his hand through his quiff.

“Fuck you.”

His eyes slid to Louis’ face. Louis’ face sagged after mere seconds of glaring at each other, his lips curving downwards.

“How did you even find out?” 

“I was,” Zayn paused to exhale, flicking the back of his hand towards Louis’ office door, “walking into the kitchen and I overheard Simon talking to Simone about some penthouse in New York. He mentioned your name, as if you’d be in the same building. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together with the new location. Avery already made it clear she’s not moving to New York. It makes sense he’d give you the job and let Avery keep hers here. You’re perfect for the position.”

There was a long beat of silence. Louis leaned his arse against his desk, his head falling forward. He breathed for a moment, slowly lifting his face. He saw Zayn standing with his hands tucked behind his head, his lips pursed in a brooding expression as he stared at a spot beyond Louis’ head.

“I still have to talk to Liam.”

“Yes, you do.”

Louis’ clenched teeth caused his jawline to flicker.

“If I was feeling shitty about moving to New York to begin with, you’ve really helped me feel even worse, so thanks for that. Do you expect me to apologize for wanting to move in with Harry?”

“I don’t mean to make you feel shitty, I...” Zayn looked at the ceiling and swallowed, thick and heavy over the lump in his throat. “I’m being greedy.”

Louis’ feet scuffed along the wooden floor.

“I know how you feel.”

Zayn’s eyes shimmered, his hand clutching the back of his hair.

“You’re like the brother I never had, man,” he said, his voice hitching mid-sentence. Louis’ bottom lip was sucked immediately between his teeth, Zayn’s wet eyes glued to the ceiling. “You know?”

“I know. And you know you’re the same for me.”

Louis wrapped his arms around Zayn’s shoulders, letting their bodies meld together. Zayn pressed his face into the top of Louis’ shoulder, Louis’ arms tightening around his upper back.

“I’m not going to do anything until Liam and I figure everything out,” Louis whispered into his hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “I promise. Harry and I are in no rush. We want to make everything right.”

“I know you would never. I know you’ll take care of it.”

“Then stop busting my balls, man. Harry’ll get jealous if you pay them more attention than he does.”

Zayn’s upper back jolted, a laugh vibrating against Louis’ neck. He shook his head and pulled back, Louis’ arms still looped around his back. 

Louis’ brows pinched inwards, his round lips pursing. 

“Why is everyone looking at us?”

Zayn turned around, a line of Simone employees frozen in place in their glass walled cubicles. Upon being discovered, they all hurried to look busy, some even going as far as picking up their phones and miming loud conversation while stapling invisible pieces of paper.

“Let’s get lunch and a pint,” Louis said, flattening his hand between Zayn’s shoulder blades. He pocketed his iPhone. “You can treat, drama queen.”

“Sure.”

They walked to the office door and pulled it open, more employees scattering away from Louis’ office. When they reached Suzi’s desk, she stared up at them with round, wide eyes, thick black glasses low on her nose and a red bowl of popcorn balanced on her lap.

“What’s with the look?” Louis laughed, reaching for a handful of popcorn. He chewed while asking, “Are you alright?”

She placed a piece of popcorn in her mouth, chewing and shaking her head.

“That was the hottest fight I’ve ever seen. In my life.” She chewed another piece of popcorn. “Quite possibly the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Do you two ever do,” her eyes bulged, “stuff together? Like,” she leaned closer and whispered, “with your boyfriends?”

“Yeah, all the time,” Zayn said with a shrug. “Why?”

A piece of popcorn dropped out of her open mouth, bouncing on her skirt. Louis guffawed and pulled Zayn to the door.

“She’s not talking about group hiking trips, mate.” He peered at Suzi over his shoulder, his arm around Zayn’s upper back. “Not like that, you perv,” he shot back at her. He faced forward. “Christ, do I have something tattooed on my forehead that makes people think I love orgies?”

“Well, there was that one time when we--”

“Shhh,” Louis hushed him, laughing and holding his hand over Zayn’s mouth.

. . .

Liam unlocked the door to his flat and slipped inside. He dropped his gym bag at the door and toed off his trainers.

“Hey,” he said brightly, surprised. “I thought Zayn was cooking tonight? Or, well, trying to cook.”

“He’s still at work,” Louis said. He pulled a chair away from the table and held his hand out. “Please, sit. Dinner’s ready.”

Liam blinked at him for a beat, his feet slowly moving him across the floor.

“Okay,” Liam said, holding out the word. He ballooned his white tee away from his chest and swiped his hand over his face. “I showered at the gym but it’s so hot out. I’m still steaming.”

“Did you lift?”

“Yup. Did some cardio, too.” Liam sat down, Louis pushing his seat into the table. Liam’s face remained towards his plate, but his eyes arched backwards, watching Louis move about in his peripheral vision. “Harry joined me again. He’s pretty strong for a hippie, yoga type.”

Louis chuckled quietly and loomed over the table, two blue pot holders wrapped around the handles of a rectangular metal pan. He knew first hand how strong Harry was.

He nudged a round white candle aside with his knuckles and slid the pan onto the table. 

“Our snowman is almost all gone,” Liam said, taking the lit candle between his hands. He thumbed over the smooth wax and rolled the ball in Louis’ direction, pouting dramatically. “Sad.”

The ends of Louis’ lips quirked up at the ends.

“He lasted a long time.”

“He did.”

“I’ll have to ask around the office where they got him.”

Louis pulled foil off the pan, steam curling into the air. Liam gasped, the remaining nub of their snowman candle forgotten.

“You made me lasagna?”

Louis dropped his oven mitts on the table.

“I did.”

Liam watched Louis shovel a large piece onto a plate, cutting a smaller piece for himself. Louis grabbed a bottle of red wine from the counter and screwed the top off, pouring it into a glass in front of Liam’s seat.

“What’s going on?” Liam asked, wine glugging in his glass. “What’s wrong?”

Louis’ brows pinched together, his forearm muscles flexing as he held the wine bottle horizontal.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

Liam picked up his fork and pressed the prongs into the layered pasta and cheese, hotter cheese oozing out the side of his lasagna.

“You loaded this with cheese.” He sniffed the air. “The full fat kind.”

“You just went to the gym. Relax,” Louis chuckled, sitting in his seat. He picked up his fork. “I...I wanted...”

His delicate Adam’s apple bobbed. He pressed the prongs of his fork into his lasagna, sauce bleeding out from the four tiny holes. Liam blew on a forkful of lasagna, his eyes glued to Louis’ blank face.

“I wanted to have a nice dinner with you,” Louis continued, his voice quiet. He shrugged one shoulder, using the side of his fork to slice into his lasagna. “Just the two of us.”

Liam smiled with his mouth shut, his jaw working in circular motions. He swallowed, his gaze unwavering.

“That’s nice of you,” Liam said as Louis’ voice overlapped with, “Harry and I want to move in together.”

Liam bit his bottom lip and nodded, his eyes dropping to his lasagna. His jaw chewed once.

“Oh.” He swallowed, licking his lips. “Okay.”

“Oh...Kay?” Louis asked, lasagna flipping in his stomach. “Okay? You’re okay?”

Liam ribbed his lip between his teeth and tapped his empty plate with his fork.

“If that’s what you want, then go for it. I’m happy for you. But,” his face twitched, “if it’s…” His eyes pleaded with Louis, air puffing out of his nostrils. “If it’s because of the sex stuff, we really only heard you have sex a few times. Three, maybe! Only three times, if that. Maybe even only two times. We were joking, and we could surely work out a schedule--”

“It’s not--It’s not the sex stuff,” Louis said, shaking his head. “No. Not...No. That’s not why we want to move in together.”

“Oh. Then…Why?”

“It’s natural. You and Zayn have your way of doing things; Harry and I are trying to figure out our way of doing things. I think...We think that it’ll be easier for everyone if we’re in our own place. Right now, we basically have four guys living here in a two bedroom flat. It’ll be more comfortable for everyone.”

Liam nodded along with his explanation, his lips pursed. 

“I get that.”

“You know it’s not because I don’t love living with you. Because I do. I can’t imagine anyone else I could have peacefully lived with for so long and I don’t think I’ll ever have anyone else in my life that’s--”

Louis inhaled through his nostrils, his lashes fluttering and his head dropped back to look at the ceiling.

“God damn it, Louis, you have to turn on the waterworks for lasagna night!?” Liam exclaimed, shoving his fork into the pan of lasagna. He shoveled lasagna into his mouth. “If you start crying, I’m done for!”

“Shut up!”

“You’ve known that for twenty-five years!”

“I’m not crying!” Louis shouted, shaking his head rapidly. “Just shut up and eat your fucking lasagna!”

Liam laughed with his mouth full of pasta, spraying sauce across the table. Louis blinked at him; instead of tears, he had a splatter of red sauce spread over his face.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he laughed, Liam laughing harder. “Fuck, stop laughing.” Louis threw napkins at him. He wiped the backs of his hands over his face. “You’re gonna choke on your delicious, meticulously prepared lasagna and ruin dinner.”

Liam chewed and swallowed, Louis picking up a strand of mozzarella looped over the edge of the pan with his fingers. They were quiet for a few moments, both chewing and sipping their wine.

“Does it bother you that Zayn is here most of the time?” Liam asked.

“No, of course not.” Louis shook his head. “Who said anything about that?”

“Just...You mentioned that it’s like four guys living here.”

Louis balled up a sauce soaked napkin and dropped it beside his plate.

“It didn’t bother me, not at all, but I was aware of it. Him. Zayn being here. It’s not like you guys are ever weird about it. It wasn’t a bad thing.”

“But you mentioned it.”

“I mentioned it because it’s relevant. Don’t overthink it.” Louis gulped down half of his wine. “Did you and Zayn have some weird sort of sex pact this morning that today would be the day you torture me?”

“What on Earth are you talking about?” Liam asked, genuinely startled. “Sex pact?”

“Forget it.” He downed the remainder of his wine. “All I’m saying is that it’s like four grown men living in a two bedroom, but still paying rent on two other flats. It’s silly. If I leave, maybe Zayn can take my room.”

“Zayn’s not taking your room,” Liam scoffed, laughing. “How weird would that be? He’s my boyfriend and he’s going to move into a separate bedroom in my flat? What are we, Lucy and Ricky Ricardo?”

“What about Niall?”

Liam thought for a moment, weighing the options and swaying his head side to side.

“I could manage with Niall. Would be fun.”

Louis squinted across the table, a speckle of sauce still between his eyebrows.

“Why would you prefer Niall to live here instead of Zayn?”

Liam’s nose wrinkled.

“Zayn’s messy.”

Louis laughed and tipped the wine bottle into Liam’s glass, refilling his own glass, as well.

“You can share your bedroom but put all his art stuff in the extra room. Use the extra room as a guest room. You sleep together in your bed almost every night anyway, what’s the difference?”

“What’s going to happen to Niall if Harry moves out?”

Louis sighed, his breath fogging the rim of his wine glass. He sipped for a moment, letting the dry red bloom on his palate. He swallowed.

“Harry’s talking to him tonight.”

Liam smirked around his fork.

“Did you two plan this attack to happen at the same time? You’ve been watching too much Breaking Bad.”

“Nah, it worked out that way,” Louis shrugged, running his tongue over his bottom lip. He pushed a small blob of melted mozzarella around his plate, drawing circles in his sauce. “The flat we’re looking at, that we hope to get, is down the block.”

Liam’s face lit up.

“Oh, really? That’s awesome! We’ll be neighbours and can still hang out all the time! Is it nice?”

“It’s really nice, yeah, and…” Louis scooped himself another serving of lasagna, breathing out a stream of air through his lips. Liam stared at him, confused, as another slab of lasagna was dropped on his plate. “Even if I moved to another place, we’re still going to hang out all the time. Doesn’t matter where I am.”

Liam’s hand flattened beside his fork on the table, his thumb tapping restlessly.

“What does that mean?”

“This is another super secret thing that I was going to tell you once everything was confirmed, but your pitbull of a boyfriend dragged it out of me today and I want to tell you now.”

Liam remained motionless, but his lips opened into a small circle, his head tilting to the right.

“What?”

“So, you know that promotion I mentioned?”

Liam’s expression visibly lightened, his chest sinking to breathe.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“I’m probably…” Louis took a sip of wine. “Most likely…” His head tipped back to dump a longer drink down his throat. “Moving,” he gasped, holding his fist to his lips. “Eventually. To New York.”

“Fuck me,” Liam laughed, reaching for the bottle. There was little humor in his laugh, his head shaking faster. He emptied the bottle into his glass. “Have you got another one of these?”

“I bought three extras for the occasion.”

Liam’s eyes clenched shut.

“Fuck, Lou,” he droned slowly, his arms flopping onto the table. “How am I going to not live with you?” He flicked one hand upwards. “First, you had to go find Harry’s magic dick and get all hypnotized,” Louis giggled at that, Liam flicking his hand again, “and now you’re leaving the country? What have I done to deserve this?”

Louis popped up from the table and opened a cabinet, producing an identical bottle of red wine.

“I know.” He screwed the cap off. “It sucks. Well,” He quirked his hip and thought for a beat, “not the Harry part. I quite like that part.”

“He sucks in a different way,” Liam said, watching wine flow into his glass. He picked it up and held it towards Louis. “We had a good run, mate.”

Louis clinked the bottom of the wine bottle with Liam’s glass, sucking a mouthful straight from the bottle. Liam replaced his glass on the table, steepling his fingers around the stem.

“Did your mum freak out when you told her you’re going to move?”

“Complete meltdown,” Louis said, bringing the bottle back to his lips. His face scrunched, too much red wine burning on his palate, but he swallowed. He held his hand flat on his chest, breathing in with wide eyes. “But I can deal with my mum when I have more details about the move. It won’t be for months.” He blinked. "Let’s get drunk and watch cartoons.”

When Zayn arrived home a couple of hours later, it was to the sound of hysterical laughter, the television so loud the floor was vibrating. He locked the door and dropped his work bag next to the kitchen table.

“What’s so funny?” he called, making a beeline for the refrigerator. The only reply he received was more snorted giggles, Zayn’s lips quirking. He pulled out a plate covered in plastic wrap. The sweet smell of tomato sauce hit his nostrils, along with a familiar heady scent. “What are you two up to?”

He popped his plate of lasagna into the microwave before walking to the living room. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles theme song blared from the television. 

Louis and Liam were sitting together on the couch with a blanket thrown over them, each holding a bottle of red wine between their spread legs. It was an image that stood the test of time, with their chosen beverages ranging from bottles of warm milk to bottles of alcohol.

“Hi!” Louis shouted, holding his wine out. His teeth were a vibrant shade of purple. “Want some?”

Zayn took the bottle from him and smiled, sitting down on the sofa. Two saucy plates were on the table, plus an empty pan and the heel of a loaf of Italian bread. 

Louis threw the blanket over his legs and shifted closer to Liam. Liam reached over Louis’ body to hand Zayn a joint, his arm sliding around Louis’ shoulders. He stroked the side of Zayn’s neck, fingers playing in his hair.

Zayn looked from the red wine bottle to the joint, then from Louis to Liam, both men staring at him. His eyes started to sting, his nostrils flaring.

“Zayn,” Louis warned lowly.

“Nope. Not you, too,” Liam said, flicking his forehead. Zayn’s tears were sucked back into his eyes, a small cry of pain leaving his wobbling lips. “Buck up. Eat your lasagna.”

“It’s just so perfect,” Zayn said breathily, his shoulders inching towards his ears. He swallowed a gulp of wine. “I never want to leave this sofa.”

. . .

Once all flatmates were notified of their plan to move in together, it seemed that fate would not allow them much alone time.

Niall interrupted the beginnings of a makeout session three times in rapid succession: Once when he came home and saw them kissing on the sofa. Twice when he forgot they were making out in Harry’s bedroom and waltzed into the room mere minutes later. And the third time when he remembered they were making out, but wanted to know if they felt like ordering Chinese. He was only being a kind flatmate and held his hand over his eyes as he asked from the doorway.

In some sort of plumbing clusterfuck, Zayn’s building had a pipe burst at the same time as Liam’s toilet deciding to stop functioning. The result was Liam, Zayn, and Louis all relying on the toilet in Louis’ en suite. It was difficult to get good foreplay going when dealing with Liam’s tiny bladder and Zayn’s inability to pee when he knew people were within earshot.

When they finally had a night to themselves for dinner and a film, Harry, up since four in the morning, nearly dozed off into his miso soup, Louis’ brain borderline mush from his stressful day at work. They skipped the film to take a long walk to Harry’s flat, enjoying the fresh air and quiet company.

“Stay over tonight?”

“You’re tired,” Louis said, swaying their joined hands as they reached Harry’s floor. He stood on tiptoe to kiss him goodnight. “I don’t want to get in the way.”

Harry unlocked the door and pushed it open. He stepped backwards and tugged Louis along by his hand, Louis stumbling forward on tiptoe. Harry’s lips met his, hot and firm and and hard enough to push a sudden burst of sweat over Louis’ entire body.

Louis gripped Harry’s hair with one hand, his other hand fisted in the centre of his tee. 

He breathed out, “Is this a sex sleepover or a cuddle sleepover?” 

Harry replied by bending over and pressing his shoulder to Louis’ stomach. He wrapped his hand around Louis' forearm, pressing Louis’ wrist to his stomach to anchor him before standing upright. 

“Ugh, I hate that I love when you get all caveman-y,” Louis groaned, his body going limp over Harry’s shoulder. He crossed his ankles. “S’not fair how hot it is.”

Harry silently carried him into the flat, plucking his Vans off to land with two soft thuds. He kicked the door shut and carried him through the dark flat, ending in his bedroom. He tossed him onto his bed as if he weighed nothing, the toss controlled enough not to harm him but hard enough for Louis’ body to bounce backwards.

“We have alone time,” Harry said, pulling his black tee over his head. He smiled crookedly, the muscles of his torso flexing. A thin silver chain with a small round pendant bounced against his highest row of abs. “I’d fancy taking advantage of that. Wouldn’t you?” 

“I dunno,” Louis said, batting his eyelashes. Harry crawled up the bed, pushing Louis’ shirt up his stomach. He sucked a kiss beside his navel, his hot palms sliding up under Louis’ shirt. “Maybe.” Louis propped his hands behind his head. “Maybe not.”

He placed his foot on Harry’s shoulder and pushed him back. Harry tumbled backwards, landing on his arse on the bed. His eyes flashed, his smile hungry. He came closer and Louis pushed him away with his foot again, his lips trembling to remain in an uninterested line. He dropped his gaze to Harry’s crotch. 

“It’s not like you’re horny or anything.” His eyes flickered back up, his foot pressing on the fly of Harry’s jeans. “Right?”

Harry’s hands wrapped around his thighs pulled him down the bed, their lips biting together.

Later that night, a strange, burning feeling tugged in Louis’ lower belly. It was persistent enough that it woke him from sleep, his nose mashing into his pillow before he opened his eyes. He studied the easy rise and fall of Harry’s bare back until his eyes felt heavy again. 

He turned over, pressing his face between Harry’s shoulder blades. He looped his arm over his hips, flattening his hand on Harry’s stomach. Harry wiggled his bum backwards, their skin sliding together. 

Then the pang came again, stronger, and Louis’ groggy brain registered it as having to pee.

He sat up in bed and rubbed his hand over his face. The pang morphed into an uneasiness that spread over his whole abdomen, his sleepy eyes squinting down at his belly. He scooted to the edge of the bed and put his feet over the side, rubbing his stomach with his right hand.

Louis felt the bed shift behind him. Warm skin enveloped his bare back, Harry’s arm looping around his middle. He heard Harry sniffle before gruffly asking, “Y’alright?”

“Yeah,” Louis said, rubbing his forearm. He turned his head and smiled down at him, Harry puffy faced and squinty eyed. “No worries. My stomach’s feeling weird.”

Harry’s brows furrowed, his sleepy gaze focused on Louis’ stomach.

“Sick weird? I hope it’s not from the sushi. Or is it more like cramped weird? Queasy weird?”

“Not any sort of pain. It’s like...I dunno. Maybe it’s stress or something. I’m not in pain, my stomach’s...Feeling weird. That’s the only way to describe it.”

Harry pushed the duvet off his body with his feet.

“I’ll make you tea.”

“No, no,” Louis chuckled softly, holding his palm to the centre of Harry’s chest. “You sleep.” He stroked Harry’s hair. “I’m gonna pee and get water and stretch a little. Do a couple of laps around the living room.”

Harry brought his eyes up from Louis' stomach.

"Lou.”

“What?” Louis asked, concerned.

“What if you're," he flattened his hand on the small swell of Louis' tummy, "with child?"

Louis body jolted with barked laughter, Harry rubbing the vibrating skin as he giggled. He ruffled Harry’s messy hair, his fingers looping around the long curls running over the top of his head.

"That's morning sickness, silly."

"Maybe it's night sickness because you're a boy."

Louis placed the back of his hand on Harry's forehead.

"Are you sure you're not the one feeling ill? You sound far too calm for that diagnosis."

Harry relaxed on his back, one arm still draped around Louis' waist, his lazy grin matching his boneless sprawl.

"Maybe you should examine me." His legs spread under the duvet, causing a tent from knee to knee. "Just to be sure."

Louis laughed again and leaned down, their lips pressing together.

“I think I prodded and examined you enough this evening to safely say you’re not pregnant.”

Harry’s legs bobbed in and out faster, his smile widening.

“That was fun.”

Louis placed his feet on the floor, curling his toes into the carpet. He stood up and stretched his right hand as high as he could, able to feel Harry’s eyes tracing over his torso. He bent over and snagged a pair of navy blue sweats, pulling them up over his bare arse.

"I'm not gonna do tea, but I can make some for you, if you’d like."

“If our DNA was combined, we’d have beautiful babies. I just know it.”

Louis’ fluffy head of hair popped out of Harry’s black v-neck tee.

“I’m getting you a cuppa with some heavy duty sedatives mixed in.”

Harry laughed and closed his legs, rolling onto his side. His long legs straightened, the sheets and blankets holding on at the very bottom of his hips. Louis put one knee on the bed and pulled the duvet up, letting it flutter down over Harry’s shoulders. 

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

“I feel bad sleeping if you don’t feel well.”

“It’s really fine,” Louis said quietly, hand cradling Harry’s cheek. “You have work in a few--”

Harry’s eyes dipped closed at the same time as he started snoring, his head lolling into Louis’ palm. 

Louis removed his hand as carefully as he could without disturbing Harry, fondness warming his bones. He kneeled with both knees on the bed, lifted his hand, and waved it in front of Harry’s closed eyes. A beat passed, Louis studying Harry’s sleep softened face. He smoothed his hair back and pressed his lips to Harry’s forehead, kissing his temple once.

He walked out of the bedroom and shut the door behind him. The television buzzed in the distance, emitting the blueish light over the entire flat. As Louis walked to the toilet he saw Niall sprawled across the sofa, his neon green socked feet propped on one end, his head smushed on the opposite end between the cushion and arm. A strand of red licorice hung from his lips, his teeth gnawing at the sweet with his eyes glued to the television.

“Hey,” Louis said, Niall’s eyes rolling backwards in his head. “Didn’t know you were home.”

“Yeah.”

Something about the sighed, single word caused concern to prickle in Louis’ brain. His stomach tugged again and he thumbed over his shoulder. 

“Just need to piss.”

“Knock yourself out.”

Louis finished up in the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face before returning to the living room. Though he had peed, his stomach still felt strange. He rubbed over his stomach with both hands, padding into the kitchen.

“Do you want a drink?” he asked, Niall grunting, “No,” from the living room. Louis got himself a glass of water and downed it in one. He kept his eyes on the sofa while filling up his glass again, arching his body side to side. “What are you watching?”

“Nothing.”

Louis’ stomach clenched, his lips pressing together. He stepped closer to the sofa.

“Hey, are you...Are you and I alright?”

Niall’s head snapped backwards, his eyes blow open.

“What? Of course we are. Why?” He scrambled to sit up, the remote falling to the floor. “What’s up?”

“You seem down. I didn’t know if,” Louis scratched behind his ear, “it was, like, because...Because of me and Harry wanting to move in together?"

Niall’s confusion only grew, his feet sliding on the hardwood to bring himself to Louis’ side.

“What? No way.” Both of his hands cupped Louis’ cheeks. “You two are pure beauty. Beauty in its purest form.”

The solemn, wise tone made Louis’ lips quirk up at the ends, his eyes crinkling to hold eye contact.

“I’d never, ever be mad about that,” Niall continued. “I’ll miss living with Haz, of course. He’s a fairy tale prince among monsters. But Ed and I figured this would happen eventually. We made a contingency plan months ago.”

A full smile emerged on Louis’ face, which was still tenderly held in Niall’s warm, calloused palms. Harry had mentioned Niall’s zen reaction and organized solution. Harry’s moving reveal lasted approximately two minutes before he and Niall started to get drunk and watch The Lion King, while Louis had two separate reveals over the course of an entire day before he and Liam got to their booze and cartoons.

“That’s good to know.”

Niall winked and tapped Louis’ forehead.

“Don’t you worry. All is well. Besides, I already told Harry what my current favourite colours are, so you can prep the extra room in your new place accordingly. I’m thinking,” he framed a picture in the air, “purple-y blue with magenta and lime accents.”

Louis laughed, the shifting of air around his lungs causing his stomach to ache. He put his hand on his belly and groaned through his laughter. Niall’s smile dropped, his eyes concerned.

“Shit, you sick or something?”

“Not sick, just, like,” Louis wrinkled his nose and wiggled his fingers in front of his stomach, “uneasy.”

Niall’s stern voice sounded far too adult to ask, “Have you and Harry been safe, young man?”

Louis squinted at him, his hand paused on his belly.

“What is with you and Harry not understanding how babies are made? Did you two meet on a message board for kids who never got the birds and bees talk? Is that how you became friends?”

Niall cackled and prodded Louis’ ribs, prompting Louis to groan through a pained laugh and double over. 

“Ah, shit,” Niall lifted his hands, giggling, “sorry, mate.”

“So, what’s your deal, then? If you’re not mad at me?”

Niall’s smile faded, the neon glow normally present in his eyes dimming to flat blue. He swallowed and sank onto a stool at the island. He planted his elbow on top and his chin on the palm of his hand.

“Just...Girl stuff.”

Louis sipped his water and stepped up to the island.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“It’s not important.”

“It’s about you,” Louis said quietly, rubbing Niall’s forearm. “It’s important.”

“It’s...It’s a Claire thing.”

Louis nodded, sipping his water. 

“Go on.”

“It’s not important,” Niall laughed, pushing off the island. “Forget it.”

Louis caught the bottom hem on his shirt.

“Mate.” He pulled Niall into him. Niall’s nervous laugh released puffs of beer soaked air into his face. “If you think Harry and I are pure beauty, then I can comfortably say you are pure happiness. A bolt of neon, sparkly lightning. And if you’re not happy about something, it is very much my priority to help you figure out whatever is bothering you.”

Niall’s eyes scrunched, his head tilting and a tiny gasp coming out of his mouth.

“That’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Louis smirked and nudged his stomach.

“C’mon. Out with it.”

Niall’s voice was tense, tighter than Louis could ever remember hearing it before. 

“It’s just...I think we’ve run our course.”

“Okay.”

“Everytime I try to end it, and I swear,” he held his palms out, “I’m trying to be as nice about it as I can be.”

“I believe you.”

“She,” Niall’s fingers bent towards his palms, “reels me back in. Either with sex or crying or crying after sex.” Louis took a long drink of water during Niall’s calm list. “But then, at the same time, it’s like she still refuses to let me be me. She seems to tolerate me when we’re out clubbing or drinking or having a night of it, but otherwise...”

Niall’s nose wrinkled.

“When she was sick, I brought her soup and movies and magazines, ‘cause she mentioned that magazines relax her, and I,” his face went rosy, his body pushing off of the island stool, “whatever." He jerked his hand through his messy hair. "Doesn’t matter."

He spun to face Louis, then turned towards the living room, his socked feet confused as he babbled.

"Then when I caught her cold, she told me snot grosses her out and she couldn’t be around me for at least a week after I felt better. Like, hello?” He snorted a laugh, throwing himself on the sofa. “Snot grosses you out? I think we’ve progressed past snot.”

Louis stifled a laugh with his palm, padding into the living room.

Niall continued, “When we went out the next time I was feeling better, one of her work friends saw us in the bar and she told me to hold her bag and wait for her near the door, like she didn’t want to be seen with me. Like--What’s so wrong with me that she’s so horrified by the thought of being seen with me? Of telling her friends about me?” 

He laughed, but the sound fell flat, his eyes sinking. 

“It must be me,” Niall murmured.

Louis frowned, his hands gravitating to Niall’s shoulders.

“Hey, none of that,” he said softly, tilting his head to maintain eye contact. Niall’s gaze jumped between Louis’ face and the ceiling. “You’re a great guy. A great person. The world is luckier because you’re in it, and if she can’t appreciate that, can’t respect it, then...Maybe it...Maybe she’s not right for you. And that’s okay. Not everyone is meant for everyone.”

"Maybe," Niall said, sighing the word out. He pointed to his head. "I feel like I'm losing it, you know? I didn't go into this to find a girlfriend, but I didn't go into it to get...Ugh," he rubbed his hands over his face, "what’s the matter with me? I definitely drank too much tonight."

"Nothing's wrong," Louis said, squeezing the tops of his shoulders. "There's nothing wrong with you. If you're feeling this way, you're feeling this way. Best to get it out in the open."

Niall pushed his fingers up the front of his hair, smiling wearily at Louis.

"I suppose not everyone can be as harmonious as you and Prince Harry, hm?"

Louis' face heated but he smiled. He bit his bottom lip and looked down.

"We're really lucky. Rare. But,” he shrugged one shoulder, “we also blab to each other all the time about things that would probably make you snore or die of embarrassment. So, yeah.” He stood to his full height. “It’s a balance."

Niall blinked owlishly.

"Like what?"

"Nothing, uh," Louis cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, "scandalous. Mostly day to day randomness, but it helps with keeping each other in the loop. Cuts down on miscommunications. We’re really open. More than I've ever been with anyone I've ever, um,” his hand rubbed harder, “been physical with."

"There's no need to be bashful, Lou. I live here. At this point, I could probably set your come sounds to a cartoon jingle."

Louis laughed and gently shoved Niall's shoulder, plopping next to him on the sofa.

"Watch it, Horan. Gimme," he scrunched his fingers towards an abandoned controller on Niall’s other side, "I'm gonna whoop you."

Niall started FIFA up, both men navigating the screen with nimble thumbs.

"What do you talk about? Claire won't even tell me if she prefers cats or dogs. Like, what the fuck is that?"

Louis propped his feet on the coffee table.

"That’s bizarre.”

“I know, right? I don’t discriminate. I love all animals.”

“And nothing, really. We just...Talk. Make an effort to talk to each other about silly things. Random things."

"Harry's great at that."

"And I've never had a proper boyfriend, so...I don't want to fuck it up, you know? Even if Harry and I weren't..." Louis' wrist jerked to the side, his eyes focused on the screen. "What we are. I care about him and respect him and want to be honest with him. I think honesty is almost more of a gift than any other trait, whether it’s friendship or a relationship."

Niall sank deeper into the sofa, sitting on his left foot.

"You two are like a unicorn, you know? One night stand turned successful relationship."

"Well, we," Louis started to say, then paused, their players running around on screen. "We didn't...Without getting too graphic, we sort of moved fast at the beginning, but also moved slow in other ways. We did some things backwards."

"Like what?"

"Like....We were cautious. We didn't do some physical things right away that we do now."

"You old romantic. Proper bridal." Niall dug his fingers into Louis' side. "Did he carry you over the doorway your first time being intimate?"

"No way, psh, intimate," Louis laughed, inching away. In the back of his mind, he acknowledged that Harry had carried him to bed more than once, but that was best kept inside his head. "Not like that. I dunno. It was a comfort thing. A timing thing that worked out. But that’s just us. We happened to work out that way."

Niall let out a long sigh, his eyes staring blankly at the wall.

“I don’t even know what I want, and yet I feel like I’m not doing something right. It’s like I’m failing at chasing a ghost I’ve never met. Or…” His gaze grew foggy. “Something with failure and ghosts?”

“You can totally punch me in the face, because I’m about to sound like an obnoxious Facebook post, but when you find what you want, what you truly want, you’ll know it. Even if you didn't know you wanted it, when you find it, you'll know. When it’s right, it’s right.”

Niall snuggled his head on Louis’ shoulder.

“I could never punch your pretty little face, though I’m throwing up in my mind right now.”

Louis grinned and jerked his elbow in the air, Niall bellowing, “Oh, you fuck!” as the screen turned to football carnage. 

Once Niall was tucked in on the sofa, drooling on a throw pillow and his neon duvet draped over his body, Louis went back into the bedroom. Harry was asleep on his back, his left leg sticking out from the duvet, his bare torso lit by moonlight. 

Louis shut the bedroom door and crawled up from the bottom of the bed, kissing a line up Harry’s stomach. When his lips reached Harry’s neck, Harry’s snores stuttered. Once he kissed Harry’s sleep-warmed lips, Harry started to move his feet below the covers.

Louis kissed him faster, more rapid-fire pecks dusted over his face, and Harry smiled with his eyes shut, sucking a slow breath in through his nose.

“What’s this for?” he asked, his lips moving with small, sleepy motions. Louis continued to peck his lips, kissing his right cheek, then his left, before returning to his mouth. “S’morning?”

“No, still nighttime.”

Harry wrapped his right arm around Louis’ shoulder blades, curling him closer to his body. He tried to keep up with Louis’ kisses, but his little laughs kept knocking Louis’ kiss attempts off kilter.

“What’s up, babe?”

Louis sat back, his knees pressed on either side of Harry’s hips.

“When we wouldn’t kiss, did it make you sad?”

Harry’s eyes opened fully. He blinked once.

“Sad?”

“Yeah,” Louis said. Harry took in the determined set of Louis’ face. “What’s with the look?”

“You look so serious right now,” Harry said, stroking his thumb over Louis’ cheekbone. “So stern for bedtime.”

“Did it make you sad, though? I’m seriously asking.”

“No, because it...I…” 

He shrugged one shoulder, opening his arms wide. Louis fell down onto his body, pressing his face into the curve of his neck. Harry’s arms closed around him, long and warm and perfectly tight enough to make sleep tease at Louis’ brain. 

“It was sort of like extended foreplay or something,” Harry whispered, his words tickling Louis’ ear. “It made me want you even more.”

“And it didn’t make you feel bad?” Louis tried to pop up but Harry held him in place. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I wanted you so much the entire time.” Louis pinched a bit of duvet in his fingers. “It was a different level, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. It was the same for me,” Harry said, softer, rubbing his hand between Louis’ shoulder blades. “I didn’t get sad. I knew we liked each other. We were...being cautious, I guess.” He peered at the back of Louis’ head, Louis burrowing into him and holding him close. “What brought this on?”

“Nothing. Well. Hm. Nothing.”

“Let me guess, Days of Horan’s Life?”

Harry felt Louis’ mouth curve into a smile against his collarbone.

“Been waiting a while to say Days of Horan’s Life?”

Harry’s laugh was quiet.

“Maybe.”

Louis sighed and wiggled his legs under the duvet. He rubbed his fingertips along the divot between Harry’s pecs. He kissed his nipple once.

“I want him to find someone who is as good for him as you are for me,” Louis murmured, stroking his fingertips over Harry’s opposite nipple. “Or find someone that makes him happy. I just want him happy.”

Harry tucked the blankets up around Louis’ shoulders, his arm a heavy, reassuring weight over his upper back.

“I know exactly how you feel.” He kissed Louis’ hair, tightening his arm, Louis rubbing his cheek on his bare chest. “I think we have to let him find his own way.” He twirled a longer piece of hair at the base of Louis’ neck. “Offer guidance when asked, but otherwise, we should let this Claire thing play out.”

“Sounds like you’re talking about your son.”

Harry’s chest bumped under Louis’ cheek.

“Sort of, yeah, I guess. I’m protective of him. I want him to be happy. But I know he’s smart and can figure things out on his own.”

Louis smoothed his hand up Harry’s side, his palm feeling each bulge of his ribs.

“You’re gonna be a good dad, I reckon,” he whispered. He kissed his nipple again. “A great dad.”

Harry gasped, jostling Louis on his chest.

“Is this your way of telling me we’re expecting? Oh, Louis,” he put a quiver into his voice, “what colour shall we paint the nursery? How do you feel about ducks and chicks as the design theme? Monkeys, maybe?”

Louis groaned, “Not this again,” on a laugh, gently prodding Harry’s ribs.

. . .

“Where’s Harry?”

Louis swallowed his mouthful of whisky, bringing the back of his hand to his lips. He opened his eyes, blinking quickly at Niall.

He exhaled, “Woo!” and fanned his mouth. “Holy fuck, what did you just give me!?”

Niall’s head snapped back to take another shot.

“Liquid gold,” Niall said, his voice as smooth and normal as usual. “This is a celebration, mate. That calls for only the shittiest of whiskey!”

Louis accepted another shot, but paused before bringing it to his lips, explaining, “He said he had to work late, but--”

“Rolex!” Zayn wailed in his ear, throwing his arms around Louis and Liam’s shoulders, hot whiskey breath blown into their faces. “Rolex! Rolex! Motherfucking Rolllexxx! Oh, look!” He shoved his glittering wrist between them, bobbing his head side to side. “I’ve got a fucking Rollex!” He pointed at Louis’ wrist. “Lou’s got a fucking Rollex! We fucking finished Rolllexxx!”

Louis started to laugh, Liam’s own laugh muffled by Zayn’s lips smushing against his mouth. Niall’s iPhone flash binded them, their group photo nothing more than a blur of light and human-shaped blobs.

“Alright, alright,” Liam laughed, panting and licking his lips. Louis and Niall took shots beside him. “I swear, you lose your fucking mind whenever you finish a campaign.”

“It’s the booze,” Niall suggested. 

Zayn grinned and went in for another kiss, Liam holding his hand over his mouth. He rolled his eyes at Louis, Louis smiling around his pint glass. 

“You were saying, sweet Louis?”

“He said he was going to come by, but had to work late, so...” Louis palmed his back pocket, his brows inching together. “Oh.” He pulled his iPhone out, angel bed Harry lighting up the screen “This is him. Ooh, and he’s Facetiming me.” He pointed at the screen and looked to the guys, jerking his head to the side. “I’ll be right back.”

He accepted the call and brought up phone to his ear, plugging his other ear with his thumb.

“Hi, handsome,” he said loudly, pushing through the crowd, smiling at the ground. “Gimme a sec and I’ll get outside so we can talk, yeah?”

“Sure. Take your time.”

Louis’ smile faded as he stepped out the door. He found an empty spot on the wall of the pub and held his phone up.

“Shit, are you alright?” Louis asked, holding the screen closer to his face. “You look awful.”

“I’m tired,” Harry said, his voice as weary as his face. He rubbed his hand over his nose, Louis’ eyes tracing the motion through their iPhone screens. “The power went out over night and the fridges never kicked back on.”

Louis’ jaw dropped.

“Oh, no!”

“Yeah, so,” Harry shrugged his shoulders up, “the day was kind of a disaster from there.”

“What did you do? Did you fix the fridges?”

“Dealt with the repair company, had to clean everything out.” Harry yawned around his words until his mouth was stuck open. “Sorry.” He wiped the back of his hand over his lips, yawning against his wrist. “Uh, I haggled with our suppliers to get last minute deliveries, redid a lot of stuff I’d had prepped, that sort of thing. This, of course, was a day that someone came in to talk to me for the award’s thing, which was the cherry on top of my insanity pie.”

“I’m so sorry,” Louis said, voice hushed with concern. “That’s...That sounds terrible. Like the worst day ever. No wonder you’re beat.”

Harry peeked at Louis through the screen, the background of the bakery kitchen swimming behind his head.

“I actually got kind of angry before.”

Louis' brows arched.

“You did? Like, sexy angry or legitimately angry?”

“Not sexy,” Harry said, blowing air through his lips. “Definitely legitimate.”

“How so?”

“What I saw the fridges were down, I...” Harry dropped his voice, his head shaking side to side. Shame coloured his cheeks. “I threw an egg on the floor.”

Louis burst out laughing, a full blown belly laugh outside the pub that drew stares from nearby smokers. He wrapped one arm around his stomach and bent halfway over, his abs aching.

“Oh my God,” he giggled out, Harry pouting on his phone screen. “I'm sorry to laugh so much, but that's...” He started to laugh properly again, Harry's pout softening. “That's so you and the little movie playing in my head of that scene is so good. I might need you to reenact it for me sometime.”

“Ha ha,” Harry said, rolling his eyes but smiling. “Not my finest moment.”

“Did you throw it hard or sort of,” he curved one shoulder forward, “nudge it off in disgust?”

“I spiked it into the floor.”

Louis' fresh laughter was met by Harry's throaty chuckle, tears brimming in their eyes.

“Which was stupid,” Harry continued, “because I'm the one who had to clean it up.”

Louis calmed down, his stomach still heaving.

“You're most definitely reenacting it for me. I'll even clean up the mess. I need to see this live and in person.” Louis' voice softened, his head tilting and his eyes focused on the image on his screen. Harry looked like a sleepy puppy, as if his head was too heavy for his neck to hold up. “You're really stressed.”

“I am. And I still have a lot of prep to do before I head home to sleep that I can't afford to come out for drinks. I'm sorry to miss your big night. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I'm off tomorrow, maybe we can do lunch?”

Louis' eyes flooded with concern.

“That's totally understandable, don’t even worry about it. We do drinks all the time.”

“But I wanted to come out and celebrate with you,” Harry said, his tone quiet and pained. “I’m so proud of all you did with Rolex.”

“Bah,” Louis flicked his wrist, “who cares about that? Was just work. I finish campaigns all the time."

“I do,” Harry said, firmer. “I care about how talented you are and I’m so happy you’ve been recognized for your work. I just...I wish I could come out to help celebrate.”

“Baby, don't stress. Please. We'll see each other soon enough. You look really tired, though, and I don't like that. Not at all.”

“I am,” Harry said, rubbing the heel of his hand over one closed eyelid. “Tired, I mean.”

Louis bit his lips together and pulled on his hair. His eyes lit up.

“Can I come help make ice cream sandwiches for you to sell?” Harry's laughter was quiet, but definitely ringing through their Facetime chat, even with his face dropped down from the screen. “That's about my limit for making desserts, but say the word and I'll be there with bells on. And ice cream. Bells and ice cream.”

“You're sweet.”

“I'm serious. Teach me to help you and I can be your sous chef. I'm a quick learner.” Harry laughed again, his eyes regaining their normal sparkle, the sound prompting Louis to giggle. “You have endless espresso at the bakery to drug me up. It could work!”

“The thought of you as my over-caffeinated sous chef is so cute I might die.”

“Then you'd be no use to anyone at all. No dying, you. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said, letting out a long sigh. His eyes shut for a beat, his head resting against a large bag of flour. His mouth barely moved to say, “It’s so funny when you call me baby.” His eyes fluttered open, a smile stretching across his face. “It’s usually when we’re in the middle of something really hot or when you’re worried about me.” 

Louis' throat bobbed to swallow, his eyes darting away from the screen.

“I never really thought of myself as the type to call someone baby, but with you it…” He wrinkled his nose at the screen. “Sort of slips out, I guess?”

“It's okay,” Harry said quietly, both staring at each other for a beat. “I like it when you say it.” His eyes looked so large on the iPhone screen. “You can call me whatever you want.”

“Yeah, well,” Louis said, looking away from Harry's smiling face. He found himself smiling, his whole body warm. “Okay.”

An oven timer buzzed loudly through the phone. The noise caused Harry’s eyes to clench shut, the muscles of his jawline flickering.

“Go. Bake. Sleep,” Louis said, waving at the screen. “I'll see you later.”

“Promise?” Harry said on a high whine, batting his eyelashes.

“Of course. Name the time and place, and I'm there.”

“My flat, midnight, preferably naked.”

“Hmm, that's an excellent idea. But,” Louis winced and shrugged his shoulders, “you need to sleep tonight. When you reenact your egg spike, I'm probably going to be so aroused that we'll need to have sex multiple times. You'll need your energy.”

Later that night, Harry trudged up the steps to his flat, his eyes heavy and his feet dragging. He could smell himself through his clothes, a mixture of sharp sweat and powdered sugar, but was so tired he was actually weighing the option of going to sleep without a shower, an idea that normally caused his skin to curl. 

He brought his key to the lock. The door opened before he could unlock it; maybe Niall felt like an early night for once. He opened his mouth, but the words, “Hey, Nialler,” never left his lips.

He blinked and looked behind himself, then looked back into his flat. 

“Am I asleep?” he rasped. “Or at the wrong place?”

“Nope,” Louis said, stepping back, a small smile on his face. “C'mon in.”

Harry willed his body to step forward like a human instead of an overexcited, yet exhausted, puppy. He was so tired and confused, but the jolt of excitement running through his body outweighed his exhaustion.

Louis pushed the straps of his rucksack off his shoulders and eased it to the floor. He peeled Harry's thin, navy blue hoodie off his body, hanging it next to the door. He wrapped his left arm around Harry's waist and squeezed his hip.

“Come along.”

Harry walked with Louis, who guided them into the bedroom. Harry’s eyes widened, his steps slowing once inside the room. Louis began to unbutton his patterned shirt, his candlelit skin glowing.

"What's all this for?" Harry asked, cool air hitting his skin. Harry reached to the side and thumbed hot wax dripping down a large white pillar candle, the unscented candle among a handful scattered around his dark bedroom. “So pretty in here.”

"You need to sleep tonight," Louis said, folding Harry's shirt open. "A serious, dead to the world, good sleep." He kissed the centre of his bare chest, hands flat on Harry's hip dents. "And I'm going to help make that happen. Fuck, you have the sexiest stomach, I swear."

Harry allowed his body to be guided backwards. He sat on his bed, Louis pressing his shoulders until he was flat on his back, the heels of his tan boots hanging off the edge of the mattress.

Louis straddled his groin, his left hand anchored on the waistline of Harry's jeans, his right hand sliding underneath the front of Harry's purple head scarf. Harry's eyes rose to watch, confusion overpowering amusement. His hair flopped over his forehead.

"What..." 

Louis's hand closed around his right wrist and guided his hand up to his pillows, his arm straight above his head and flat on the bed. Harry's open button-down fluttered to his sides, revealing his stretched stomach muscles. A kiss was dropped in the downy hair below his navel, Harry sucking his stomach in and shivering. His left hand was placed next to his right hand on the same pillow. 

Louis looped Harry's headband around his right wrist, weaving the fabric through the slotted top of his headboard. Harry's slack-jawed, baffled silence broke through Louis' get-down-to-business attitude, a smirk flickering over Louis' face. 

He ground himself against Harry, tugging on the centre of his stretched head scarf, slipping his fingers between wrists and the fabric tied around them.

"You do love a sneak attack, don't you?" Louis asked, tightening his thighs around Harry’s hips. 

He wetly opened their lips together, swallowing the breath of sweet air that puffed out of Harry’s mouth. For a moment, Louis’ smile softened, his hand flat on the side of Harry’s face. 

They held eye contact for a beat, Louis whispering, “Fondant?”

“A-Are you insane?” Harry said, laughing higher than usual. “This is like so many of my fantasies come to life that I’m not sure if I’m actually awake or if I fell asleep on the train.”

Louis laced his fingers between Harry’s, squeezing his hands and grinding down harder.

“You’re awake.” One of his hands snuck below Harry’s belt, rubbing him through his jeans. “Very much so.”

Harry's eyes squinted slightly more closed in response, but he kept his gaze on Louis’ face, his lower body arching a touch upwards, a quiet whimper emerging from his open lips. He licked his lips, throat bobbing to swallow.

Louis let his fingers drag through the front of Harry's hair, pushing the shiny strands back from his forehead. He sealed their lips together, his hand laced in the back of Harry's hair. Harry let out another whimper, breathier than the last, his mouth opening and their tongues sliding together.

"Lots of tongue and a blowjob is a guarantee to get you sleepy." 

Louis tongued Harry even slower, their mouths making slick, clicking noises as they sucked at each other. Harry's thighs tightened underneath his arse. His feet stumbled even while laying down, his boots scuffing together, his legs trying to lift off the bed. Louis smiled against his lips, rubbing Harry's clenching fists. 

"And this," he tapped the fabric securing Harry to the headboard, "is to keep those perfect hands of yours off of me, lovely as they may be."

Harry panted, "That's no fun," and unclenched his hands, his eyes fallen shut, Louis sucking hard on the juncture of his jawline.

"Ah, but this is all about you tonight," Louis said, kissing down the front of Harry's throat. Louis palmed him through his jeans, smiling at the answering long groan. "And this feels like a bit of fun, hm?"

Before Harry could answer, Louis’ lips were back on his, sucking hotly and grinding against him, Harry groaning breathily through his nose. Louis nipped his bottom lip and Harry arched his lower back, wrists straining against the scarf. Louis laughed into their kiss, low and slow and mischievous.

“Try to touch me, baby,” he murmured, lowering his mouth to Harry’s collar bone. He peered up at him, Louis’ cheekbones sharpened by flickering candlelight. He dragged his fingertips down Harry’s sides, kissing to his right nipple, keeping their eyes locked. “C’mon.” His eyes widened, teeth snagging his nipple and pulling hard. “Grab me.”

The headboard clunked against the wall, Harry’s biceps bulging under the sleeves of his shirt. Louis let out another quiet laugh, kissing down the centre of his heaving stomach.

“You want to get a bit handsy with me?” Louis continued to murmur, pressing deliberate kisses on each of Harry’s abs, hand massaging him through his jeans. “Hold me down, maybe? Just the way I like it?” He bit Harry’s right hip bone, feline eyes glued to Harry’s panting lips. “The way I only want you to do it to me? Can’t exactly throw me over your shoulder in your current,” one finger traced down his fly, “predicament.”

“Fucking fuck,” Harry finally grunted, squeezing his eyes shut, straining harder against the scarf. “You’re teasing me.”

Louis grinned down at Harry’s crotch, pressing his face against the thick, throbbing line of his cock.

“You’re loving it.”

“Fuck yes, I am. Don’t ever stop.”

Louis unbuckled his belt, letting the leather remain flared open. He unzipped his fly.

“Want me to suck you now?” 

He slipped his hand into his fly, rubbing him through his boxer briefs. His tongue flickered over his bottom lip, keeping eye contact with Harry’s dazed stare. 

“I think you do.” He squeezed his thick cock, applying pressure when he reached his head. “Am I right, baby?”

Harry nodded and exhaled, “Yeah,” his eyes darting from Louis’ mouth to his groin. “Please?”

Louis wordlessly pulled Harry’s jeans and boxers below his hips. His cock sprung upwards, already wet at the tip, and Louis hummed, suckling his head.

“Fuck,” Harry sighed out. "Please--I--"

“Mmm,” Louis licked his lips, jerking him slowly. “Sweet. You don’t have to ask for anything tonight.” Puffs of air teased over Harry’s wet, tender skin. Harry tried to move his legs, but his tight, bunched jeans held them in place. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

Harry was about to reply, but Louis’ hot mouth swallowed him whole, setting to sucking him as if the walls were crumbling around them and comets were falling from the sky. There was something hypnotic about Louis’ quiet, but enthusiastic, slurps, small sucked clicks speeding up more and more. Comets very well might have been falling from the sky, but Harry was too busy gasping and whimpering, squirming up to meet Louis’ tight, lush mouth, that he lost track of any solar system related changes.

Harry’s toes curled in his boots, the line of his neck lengthened as his tipped his head backwards, pressing it into his pillows. He lost his breath for a moment, his mouth gasping for air, then he shouted out, “Fuck,” and pulled his wrists, his stomach sunken in. The bed frame rattled against the wall, Harry groaning, “Louis,” as he trembled.

One more low, long moan and Harry was coming, Louis’ head bobbing even faster to suck him as he came, come squelching out the sides of his mouth. 

As he came down, Harry’s eyes fluttered open to study the candlelit ceiling, his sweat-soaked chest heaving beneath Louis’ lips. His open shirt barely held onto his arms, fresh scratch marks running down his ribs. 

Louis kissed his right nipple, nosing sideways over his pec, his face tucking under his arm. Small breaths of air teased over Harry’s skin.

“Lou,” Harry said on an exhausted, low chuckle, clenching his biceps. “I’m gross. I should shower.”

“Or have a bath. Mmm, you smell like a man-cake.”

Harry smiled wider, his face growing more relaxed and his arms slackening against the bed. He shut his eyes.

“That would be perfect. Haven’t had a bath in a while. Too much of a pain to deal with the tub.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Harry’s eyes opened slowly. He quirked an eyebrow.

“What’s with the look?”

Louis unlooped the stretched head scarf from Harry’s wrists. Harry cupped his face, curling his body upwards. He went for a kiss but Louis giggled and pushed him gently onto his back, pecking the tip of his nose instead. 

“Part Two,” Louis said, brushing a quick kiss to his lips. He hopped off the bed. “C’mon, sweaty.”

“C’mon to what?”

Louis held one hand out. Harry stood up, rubbing himself through his loosely fastened jeans. He gripped Louis’ hand, Louis leading him out of the bedroom.

“Just a short trip,” Louis said, squeezing Harry’s hand. He pushed on the door of the bathroom. “Ta da.”

Harry's mouth fell open. Louis let go of his hand to kneel down at the tub, dipping his hand into the bubbly water. Harry blinked and turned in a circle, candlelight flickering over his slackened face. His tiny bathroom had never looked so beautiful.

“What is this?”

“You're going to have some tub time, then rub time,” Louis said, standing and drying his hands on a towel. “Can you do your boots?”

Harry raised his eyebrows, his sleepy eyes squinting at Louis.

“Come again?”

“Tub time,” Louis said slower, holding his arm out to the bubble filled tub, “then rub time.” He pushed Harry's shirt up his stomach. “I'm going to rub you until you fall asleep. Massage you. Fuck, you are tired, aren't you?” Harry's arms spread automatically to allow Louis to take his shirt off. “Then, you can sleep like the dead and forget that this day ever happened.”

Louis moved his jeans down his hips.

“But if this day never happened, then we wouldn't be here doing this right now,” Harry said, holding still while Louis undressed him. “And this, right now, is...It's...I don't even know what to say.”

“You don't have to say anything. Relax.” Harry's jeans fell around his ankles. Louis unzipped the sides of his boots, Harry stepping on the backs to toe them off. “That's the point of this.”

Harry lifted his right foot and took his sock off.

“Can you come in with me?”

“Nope,” Louis said on a sigh, pushing Harry's boxers down. “If I'm in there with you, I'm going to distract you.” Harry made no move to cover himself, standing in nothing but his left sock, his sock black with white aliens on them. “You're going to doze in the tub, then I'll come get you and take you to bed.”

“You left drinks to come do this,” Harry said softly, his hands curving around Louis' hips. “Why? You didn't have to. This was your celebration night. You have to wake up for work tomorrow.”

“I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to.” He stroked Harry’s hair over his left ear, smiling crookedly. “I’m rather fond of you. Maybe you haven’t noticed.”

“I have,” Harry said, pressing his face into Louis’ neck. “I’m so lucky.”

“Bathtime,” Louis said, guiding him backwards. “Enough of this mushiness. You stink.”

He spun Harry around and gently slapped his bum, Harry snuffling and shuffling to the tub.

“Wait, erm,” Harry itched the back of his head, looking sheepishly over his shoulder, “so…”

“Do you notice anything different about this room?” Louis asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He raised his eyebrows. “Hmm?”

“Um…”

Harry looked around, his mouth pursed to the side. He took a deep breath, then held it, his eyes widening.

“Is that lemon?”

“It is.”

Harry turned around suddenly, his dick slapping against his thigh.

“Did you clean my bathroom?”

“I cleaned your bathroom,” Louis said, stepping closer. He thumbed the muscled dents of Harry’s hips, placing a line of kisses along his collarbone. “Just a quick scrub so you could bathe in peace.”

“You scrubbed my bathtub?”

“I couldn’t have you bathing in the remnants of Niall’s little fellows, could I?”

“Ugh,” Harry laughed, wrinkling his nose. “Disgusting.”

“Aren’t you lucky that I’m a thoughtful boyfriend?”

“I am. I’m so, so lucky,” Harry said, purring his words. He wrapped his arms around Louis’ waist. “Come in the bath with me.” He opened his lips on the junction of Louis’ jawline and beneath his ear. He breathed, “Wanna thank you properly,” before sucking gently.

“Get in the tub, horndog,” Louis said, fighting a laugh and guiding him backwards. “You can thank me with your words, not your cock.” Harry pouted and Louis’ laugh escaped, their lips bumping together. “Get in. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Louis watched Harry’s long legs bend upwards one by one before lowering into the bubble-filled tub. Candlelight licked at his broad back and tapered waist, his arse sinking into the water.

“Oh,” Harry sighed, deep and quiet. He tilted his head back on the edge of the tub. “Louis,” he moaned, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, Lou.”

“You do know I’m not actually in there sucking you off, right?”

Harry laughed low in his throat, the tips of his knees peeking out from the sudsy water. He felt Louis’ fingers stroke through his hair, an even more grumbly moan vibrating in his chest.

“Warm enough?” Louis asked quietly, dipping his other hand into the water on top of Harry’s chest. “I can add more hot water.”

Harry’s eyes slid open slowly, beams of sleepy green glimmering amongst the flicker of candlelight. He smiled and held Louis hand to his chest, lifting it out of the water and pressing his lips to his knuckles.

“It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.” He kissed the top of Louis’ hand, resting his cheek against his knuckles with his eyes growing dreamier. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

The right side of Louis’ mouth quirked upwards.

“I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to one-up me in no time. You’re the romance mastermind in this relationship.”

Harry laughed silently, nothing more than a small tremble of his shoulders, the water swaying over his skin. Louis squeezed his hand once, then eased it back into the water.

“I’ll be back in a bit.” He kissed Harry’s forehead. “Soak. Relax.”

He stood up, unable to look away from Harry’s glowing face. Harry’s toes wiggled above the bubbly waterline on the opposite end of the tub as he smiled. Louis rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, exhaling a breathy laugh. 

Harry watched Louis walk to the door, Louis shooting him a little smile as he pulled the door shut. 

He settled on the warm porcelain and closed his eyes. Bubbles tingled over every inch of his skin, his muscles releasing the entire day’s tension as he sank deeper into the tub. 

Minutes, or maybe days, later, the door creaked open. Harry’s eyes moved beneath his closed lids. He had been sitting in the warm water for so long his skin had gone dewy. He blinked at Louis as he approached the tub. 

Louis knelt down, running his fingers through the front of Harry’s damp hair.

“Relaxed?”

“Very,” Harry said, his mouth slurring.

Louis smiled, pleased, and kissed Harry’s wet shoulder, humming against his skin. 

“Dinner,” he said, offering him a blue plastic bowl.

Harry sat up straighter, the water sloshing around him.

“Mac and cheese? My favourite!” His bright eyes sent beams of light over Louis’ face. “This is for me?”

“I could hear your stomach growling while I sucked you.”

“No way,” Harry laughed, his knees sticking out of the water. Louis smirked and handed him a spoon. “Seriously?”

“Maybe once or twice. Especially when I went for your balls.”

Harry snuffled and lifted a heaping spoonful. 

“Sorry about that.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. You can just enjoy and relax.”

Harry chewed his macaroni, humming deeply and fluttering his eyelashes.

“The instant kind?” he said out of the corner of his mouth.

“Only the best for my baby,” Louis said, ruffling Harry’s hair. Harry chuckled as he chewed, loading up another spoonful. “I’ll be back.”

When Louis next returned, the plastic bowl was floating in the bath with the spoon still inside. He listened to Harry snoring for a few beats. Harry’s head was resting on the edge of the tub, his mouth agape and his face smushed into his right shoulder.

Louis stepped up to the bath and took the empty bowl out. He thumbed over Harry’s bottom lip, Harry snuffling awake. 

“Missed a spot,” Louis said. Harry’s tongue darted out on the pad of his thumb. “Only you could make cheese goop hot.”

Harry laughed and leaned back on the tub, blinking up at Louis.

“What’s next?”

“Were you planning on actually having a bath or just sitting in here until you turn into a prune?” Louis turned the hot water on at Harry’s feet. “It’s starting to get chilly.”

“Maybe I need some help with the whole soap part.” He smiled innocently and poked Louis’ hand with his big toe. “Nooks and crannies and all.”

Louis guffawed, shaking his head.

“You’re too much.”

Harry’s lips pouted forward.

“Please?”

Louis sighed, Harry’s smile victorious. Louis rolled the sleeves of his white shirt above his elbows. He reached into the tub, draining some of the water, and squirted more bubble bath beneath the faucet. He stood up and pulled his tie off, Harry’s eyes lighting up.

“I’m not getting in,” Louis said. “Don’t get too excited.”

“I’m too tired to get excited.”

Louis snapped the material of his tie between his hands, his brows arching.

“That so?”

Harry’s lips trembled open, his gaze dopey. Louis’ eyes crinkled, his serious expression softening. He laid his tie over the towel rack, dragging his fingertips down the silky material. 

“Maybe I should have tied you to the bed with this instead of your headband, hm? I reckon you would have enjoyed that.”

Harry continued to make, “Uh,” noises, his eyes following Louis’ every move. Louis turned the hot water off. “Okay.”

“Maybe next time,” Louis said. He rolled his black dress trousers up to his knees and stepped up to the top of the tub. “Lean forward, please.”

Harry obediently leaned forward. Louis placed his left foot in the tub, swinging his right leg around to rest on the other side of Harry’s body. He sat on the edge of the porcelain, the back of Harry's head resting against his crotch. Louis leaned over and pressed their lips together, Harry’s hands wrapping around Louis’ ankles, both humming. Louis itched his fingers through Harry's hair.

“Dunk, please,” Louis said. 

Harry smiled and took a big breath in, puffing his cheeks out and dropping under the newly heated bubbles.

Once Harry was clean (including all nooks and crannies), moisturized, minty-mouthed, and so relaxed he could not move his legs, Louis pulled his sheets and duvet up to his shoulders, Harry’s damp head of hair sticking out at the top of the bed.

“You rubbed my ankles,” Harry murmured, his words muffled by pillow.

Louis smirked, tucking the blanket around Harry’s upper back.

“I did.”

Harry took a slow breath in, his speaking tempo even slower.

“You rubbed my shins. The backs of my legs.” One eye remained open and on Louis’ back, Louis blowing out candles around the room. “How did you know to rub my shins?”

“When you stand for long periods of time, I know your legs start to ache.” He blew out the final candle. “Liam told me to go for the shins and ankles.”

“You rubbed my feet,” Harry said quietly, turning his cheek to rest on the pillow. He smiled, his eyes scrunched almost shut. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“Harry,” Louis laughed, sitting next to his cocooned body on the bed. “You’ve had my feet in your mouth more than once, not to mention the whole sex thing.”

Harry drawled, “But you rubbed them,” and bit his bottom lip. “And it felt so good.”

Louis stood up, heat prickling the back of his neck.

“If I knew a foot massage would rock your world so much, I wouldn’t have given your cock so much attention. Or made mac and cheese.”

Harry chuckled quietly and slid one hand out of his cocoon. He rubbed the empty space beside him.

“Stay?” 

Louis stared at him for a long beat, his hands on his hips. Harry rubbed his hand over the spot again, arching his eyebrows. Louis sighed, fighting a smile. He began unbuttoning his shirt.

Harry tried to contain his glee, but couldn’t help but whisper, “Yes,” holding out the vowel.

“I'm not supposed to sleep over tonight,” Louis said, pulling his white undershirt over his head. He hung both shirts on the doorknob of Harry’s closet. “You're supposed to rest and get a good night's sleep.”

“But I'll sleep even better with you in bed. You know it's true.”

Harry’s sleepy, happy mumbles made it difficult not to smile as he unbuckled his belt and pushed his trousers to the floor, leaving him in only black boxer briefs.

“No funny business,” Louis said, waggling his finger and kneeling on the bed. “I want you asleep in five minutes. Max.”

“Yes, Mr. Tomlinson,” Harry said, his hands tucked beneath his pillow. He bit his bottom lip and dragged his eyes down Louis' body. “You're so gorgeous at bedtime. Can’t wait to see it every night.”

“Ah ah.” Louis poked his closest armpit and Harry yelped, light giggles bubbling into the air. “That looks and sounds like funny business.”

“I'm just telling the truth,” Harry said, enveloping Louis under the blankets. Louis snuffled into a pillow, the covers pulled up over his head. “You make me all dreamy.” Harry kissed the centre of his chest. “And a little horny.”

“Harry,” Louis said, half laugh and half groan. Harry smirked with his lips touching Louis' stomach. “You’re hijacking my romantic, gentlemanly plan.”

“Can we at least kiss a little?”

Louis looked down his body, Harry’s chin resting on his navel. Harry tilted his head back and forth, his smile mischievous.

“Five minutes,” Louis said with as much firmness as he could muster, Harry’s lips attached to his own before he even finished his second word. Louis breathed, “Fuck, Harry,” and wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck, Harry rolling over and taking Louis with him.

More than five minutes later, Louis curled around Harry’s back, spooning him for all of three seconds before Harry passed out. Hard. 

Harry woke the next morning to an empty bed, resting on his side with the blankets tucked up to his neck. He reached his hand out and rubbed Louis’ side of the mattress, the sheets cool. His dry mouth pursed forward.

He rolled onto his back and reached to the right. He picked up his watch from his bedside table. It was ten, meaning Louis left for work a little over an hour and a half ago. He must have been out cold while Louis got ready. His body was already begging him to fall back into a deep sleep.

Harry placed his watch on the table and snuggled back down in his blankets. He shut his eyes and started to doze when he heard a whizzing sound from outside his bedroom, coupled with a muffled, “Fucking shit.” His right eye opened, peering at his the door.

His bare feet landed on the floor as he stretched his arms high above his head. He bent over the edge of the mattress and snagged a discarded pair of black yoga pants, sliding them up his legs. They hugged his thighs, the material hitting just above his ankles.

He clasped his hands together and pressed them upwards. His body lengthened with the motion, his ribs stretching to arch sideways. His calves burned as he walked on the balls of his feet.

In the kitchen, Louis took a tall glass from the highest shelf in the cabinet to the left of Harry’s sink. He placed it on the counter and removed a blender from its base. He tilted it over into the glass, foamy neon green filling it up almost to the top.

Sleep-warmed skin pressed against his back. He grinned, arms wrapping around his waist.

“Am I still having the best dream of my life?” Harry’s voice purred in his ear. He kissed Louis’ neck once. “How are you real?” Another kiss behind his ear. “How are you here?” His arms tightened around Louis’ waist, his nose inhaling deeply in his hair. “What about work?”

Louis rested the back of his head against Harry’s shoulder.

“I told Simon I’d be in late today. There were no meetings scheduled, so he said to come in whenever I wanted. I don’t think he really cares if I come in at all, but I thought I’d go in after lunch.”

“You did?” Harry asked, voice softened by awe.

“Yup. Figured I could spend some more time with you.”

Louis turned in his arms and handed him a neon green smoothie, smiling brightly. He plopped a red and white striped straw into the glass. Harry sipped for a moment with hollowed cheeks. His lips popped off the straw, his wide eyes peering over Louis’ shoulder.

“And you even made me toast!”

“Alien toast,” Louis said, handing over a small white plate. 

Harry picked up a piece of toast smothered in mushed avocado, a fried egg balanced on top. He bit into it and groaned, chewing with his mouth shut. He swallowed and smiled around another bite.

“You even put the sea salt on it,” he said, his mouth decidedly not shut. “It’s perfect.”

Louis reached for his own cup of tea. 

“You should win an award for teaching me to mush avocado properly.”

Harry snuffled through his nose as he chewed, Louis biting on a piece of buttered toast. They quietly munched for a moment.

“This bread’s good, but tastes different than usual,” Louis said out of the corner of his mouth. “Did you make it?”

“No, I did not.” Harry’s words were slow, his smile growing. “The bakery’s new assistant, Elliot, did. I had him make it as a sort of audition.”

Louis’ brows arched upward, crumbs lingering on his bottom lip.

“New assistant? Helena okayed hiring him? Or rather,” Louis narrowed his eyes, “you relented and told her you needed an extra set of hands now that your legions of admirers flock to eat your baked goods on the regular?”

Harry’s hands wrapped around Louis’ hips, his palms snuggling up under the bottom of his baggy white tee. Louis pecked his mouth, crumbs and all, both smiling into another buttery kiss. 

“She did. She said she’d been waiting for me to ask and already had a budget worked out to pay another employee. I think she saw how run down I’ve been getting and,” Harry shrugged his right shoulder, “you were right.”

“Mmm, tell me more,” Louis said, linking his arms over Harry’s shoulders. “Talk dirty to me.”

Harry rubbed their noses together.

“Yeah, yeah, you were right, of course. It worked out for the best. Now I can sleep in a few more mornings and I’ll have more flexibility to take time off, if needed, once I get Elliot up to speed. We can have weekend adventures, finally.”

“That’s wonderful. You’ll be so much more well rested.” Louis stood up on the balls of his feet and pressed their lips together. Harry’s tongue managed one tender lick into Louis’ mouth before Louis’ lips curled and his head recoiled on his neck. “Blech,” he went back to flatfoot, “I hate avocado.”

Harry grinned and sucked Louis’ lips, Louis snorting and using his palm to gently push Harry’s face away.

“You’re gross,” Louis said, laughter vibrating in his voice. “Ew, get your alien gunk mouth away from me.”

Harry used his teeth to quickly nibble on the left arch of Louis’ neck, Louis bursting out laughing and squirming against the counter. 

“I’m a cannibal, silly,” Harry said lowly, his mouth starting to suck. Louis’ laughter tapered to a quiet moan, his right hand sliding down Harry’s bare back. Harry angled his face to brush their lips together. “You should know that by now.” He jutted his chin up, lifting Louis with two hands on his arse. "Up."

Louis spread his legs wider to hug Harry's thighs, his body gently placed on the countertop.

“Not fair.” Louis cupped Harry's small bum, squeezing once, their lips melding. His other hand clenched in Harry’s hair, his ankles crossing behind his back. “You know I can’t resist you in just yoga pants." He dragged his palm down Harry's muscled front. "Fucking long, perfect torso.”

Harry smiled into their kiss and pulled Louis tighter to his body.

“Imagine when we live together,” Harry whispered, stroking his fingertips down Louis’ cheekbone. “Constant yoga pants.”

“More like constant nudity.”

Both snuffled laughter, their heads tilting for a deeper kiss. Niall’s bedroom door creaked open. Their lips parted, Harry pressing his face into Louis’ neck, their arms squeezing around each other.

“Hey, mate,” Louis said, patting Harry’s bum. He hopped down and slid around Harry’s body to pick up another plate. “Breakfast?”

A collection of wild blond spikes blocked Niall’s barely open eyes. He blinked at the offered plate. He looked up to Louis.

“You made me sparkle toast?” 

“I did.” Louis ruffled Niall’s hair. He handed him a plate of toast slathered with butter and a generous layer of cinnamon sugar on top. “Tea, too. Heard you had a rough night.”

Harry smiled sadly around his smoothie straw, Louis leading Niall to sit at the island. 

Zayn had sent them a text to let them know that Claire joined up with their group sometime during the night, but what started as a celebratory romp ended with a one-sided screaming match outside whatever bar they were in. 

Niall was left alone, confused, and borderline blackout drunk. Ed had walked with him back to the flat and helped him to bed, all while Louis and Harry were fast asleep in Harry’s room.

“Yeah, not my finest,” Niall mumbled, his head dropping down. He nibbled at the edge of his toast, the crust already cut off. “Made a fool of meself, it seems.”

Harry shook his head and said, “Nah, it sounds like Claire...” He and Louis glanced at each other. “Had a bad night.”

“Maybe she’s stressed at work or something,” Louis offered. 

“Maybe,” Niall said, sounding more glum by the second. “We are officially done, though, so I guess…” He clinked his toast against Harry’s remaining bit of bread. “Yay?”

“As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters,” Harry said, Louis nodding firmly.

“I agree," Louis said. "As long as you’re happy.”

“I...I am?” He winced, the motion weighed down by the uncomfortable fog of too much whiskey and not enough sleep. "Does that make me a bad person? That I'm happy it's over?"

Louis and Harry said, "No," together and shook their heads.

"I think it ran its course," Harry said. "And you didn't do anything wrong. You were honest and tried to be as flexible as you could, but there's only so much you can do when the other party is," he thought for a moment, delicately saying, "not on the same page."

“Agreed,” Louis said, ruffling Niall’s hair. "You'll find someone as amazing as you are when it's right."

Niall chewed his toast, faux sobbing, "You're the best hot dads ever," with crumbs dusting his lips.

They all chuckled. Louis walked to the sink and rinsed his empty mug. He nudged his hip against Harry’s. 

“I’m gonna take a quick shower. You two can leave the plates and stuff. I’ll take care of it before work.”

“Nah, you cooked, we’ll clean,” Harry said, fingertips curving around Louis' hip bone as he lowered his head. Louis kissed him softly, Niall cheering, "Hot dads!" from the island. Louis flushed and laughed, breaking their kiss. Harry giggled, “Have a good shower.”

Louis padded towards the bathroom, able to hear Niall and Harry chatting away in the kitchen.

“Oh, I forgot to congratulate you, Haz.”

Harry furrowed his brows, chewing the last of his alien toast.

“For what?”

“You worked enough hours in the bakery to finally shit cookies. Our toilet smells like a lemon bar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from my favorite Tegan and Sara song, [ Relief Next To Me ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yftgnkdan8%20)
> 
> Come say hello on [ LJ](http://dolce-piccante.livejournal.com) and [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com)


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s the big night, the night of the London Food and Wine Awards!
> 
> Warning: Mentioned previous recreational drug use, implied drug use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This chapter is mega long, so my notes are long to match ;D)
> 
> Big thank you to [painting--words](http://painting--words.tumblr.com) and my lovely friend Kat for their help with French! If you hold your cursor over the French text, it should provide you with a translation, unless a character does the translating in dialogue.
> 
> I listened to a lot of songs in the writing/prep of this chapter (and the next one). I put links in to YouTube videos of the songs throughout the chapter. There will also be song links popping up that aren’t necessarily mentioned in the chapter by name, but they were what I listened to while writing.
> 
> Since this is a party scene sort of chapter, there are a lot of characters popping in and out, and I’d say there needs to be a healthy suspension of disbelief lol because this is a fantasy of an awards event, so just keep that in mind. There are a lot of celebrity cameos, which are all **completely fictional** and meant to be just for fun. This work of fiction does not reflect the real life celebrities/people mentioned and no harm is intended. 
> 
> Italics are used for flashbacks and/or text messages.
> 
> Big big biggy biggest THANK YOU to the wonderful warrior [ Jess!](http://whitechimes.tumblr.com) for being an amazing beta, a super cheerleader, and putting up with my insane Gdocs and Gdoc comments lol She cracks me up, puts up with my weird schedule, and is just so nice. I can’t believe how long this fic is getting and that she has put up with it every step of the way, so thank you!
> 
> Finally, thank youuuu to the readers! To the commenters, Tumblr asks/fanmails, everyone who has stuck around and read. Thank you to the amazing readers who have started to bake the creations from this fic! That makes me so, so happy (and hungry) to see! I’ve got the best readers ever. So far, we’ve had amazing creations for:
> 
> [Lonely London Bars](http://dieinthewinter.tumblr.com/post/112558369150/relief-next-to-me-lonely-london-bars-recipe) by [ dieinthewinter ](%E2%80%9C)
> 
> [Le Louis Chocolates](http://dieinthewinter.tumblr.com/post/112645292255/i-tried-my-hand-on-haydolces-relief-next-to-me) by [ dieinthewinter ](%E2%80%9C)
> 
> [Almond Croissants](http://dieinthewinter.tumblr.com/post/112591542345/relief-next-to-me-almond-croissants) by [ dieinthewinter ](%E2%80%9C)
> 
> [Le Louis Chocolates](http://theemmed.tumblr.com/post/111934036553/theemmed-this-recipe-is-based-on-the-fic-relief) by  Emmy 
> 
> Enjoy!! Happy weekend :)

Harry checked his hair in the chrome of his oven. He smoothed his palm over his blown back fringe, his hair taller and rounder than usual, waves brushing the middle of his neck. He dusted off his shoulders, pinching the corners of his jacket collar. 

He tilted his head and blinked. He couldn’t tell if it was the warp of the metallic surface or if his head was actually that much larger than his neck. Maybe it was his hair? There was a knock at the door before he could get out a ruler.

His black boots clicked on the floor. He walked with crooked steps, his hands occupied by the knot of his black tie. He gave his tie one more tug and pulled the door open. 

“Hello, handsome.”

Harry looked up from his tie, his mouth falling and his eyes squinting. 

Louis stood in his doorway with his hands on his hips, his smile mischievous. He took one step closer and reached upwards. He tugged the knot of Harry’s tie once, smoothing his palm down his tie until he hit his buttoned suit jacket. He thumbing over the collar of his shirt before smoothing his palms up the fronts of his shoulders. 

“Aren’t you looking stunning this evening? Nice pocket square.” Louis flattened his hand over Harry’s heart. “I like the contrast.” He glanced lower, his eyes lighting up. “Oh, nice. You wore the new boots. They look amazing on you.”

Harry tried to remember what contrast meant, and how it related to his all black formal attire with a small white pocket square. He spent his days turning frosting from the lightest to the darkest shade of each colour. He made cookies and cakes shaded in only black and white. And yet, if quizzed about the definition of contrast, or even the definition of boots, his only answer would be nothing but babbled nonsense.

Louis was covered in material, but Harry stared at him as if he was standing naked in the doorway. Tight black suit trousers clung to his thick thighs, the tapered material ending before his bare ankles and pointed-toe black shoes. A slim cut jacket dipped in enough at his waist to emphasize the bloom of his hips and the flatness of his stomach, his collar a shinier, silky black material. His white shirt gave his tan skin a flushed glow, his thin black tie serving as a blinking red arrow to his face.

When Harry did not move, Louis’ lips curved into a small smile. 

“Are you going to invite me in?” He crossed his arms over his chest, the shift of his hips only drawing more attention to the slope of his lower back. “I thought I was going out with a gentleman tonight?”

“Oh, yes, please. Please, come in.”

Harry reached forward to grasp Louis’ hand, but his feet misread his brain’s signal and stepped backwards, his large feet tripping over themselves. Louis caught him around the waist, swinging him upright. 

“Jesus, sorry,” Harry let out a squeaked noise and tried to find Louis’ face among the swirling walls, “sorry, uh--”

Louis held him snug to his body, one hand gripping the back of Harry’s black jacket with his other hand flattened on his flushed cheek. Harry exhaled a quieter, weaker noise, the sound swallowed by soft, insistent lips, Louis’ arm hugging Harry tighter around the waist. Harry hummed into the sudden, heated suck, his hands settling on Louis’ arse. 

Harry pulled back all of an inch to pant, “You look amazing. Beautiful. So beautiful.” 

He kissed Louis again, his feet more firmly on the ground. He felt Louis smile, both breaking the kiss to press their cheeks together.

“Fuck, just…” Harry tightened his arms, Louis doing the same. They shared an appreciation for a good, long hug. He whispered, “You’re always perfect, but you look…” 

He held Louis out at arms length, a hand on each of his shoulders. He lifted his right hand, running his fingers through the front of Louis’ smooth, swirled hair. He hadn’t gotten it cut in a while, giving him some extra length and volume. 

Louis’ light eyes rose to follow the motion, his hair feather soft beneath Harry’s finger tips. His belly lit with heat, watching Harry’s long, elegant fingers dipping in and out of the thick stands. He swallowed, Harry’s thumb tracing his cheekbone.

“Zayn’s quiff and blow dryer expertise came in handy when I was getting ready,” Louis said, his voice tighter than usual. “I said my hair looks like ice cream, but he said it looks like a cinnamon roll.”

Harry’s hand cradled Louis’ jawline. 

“I can’t believe you’re my date.”

Louis’ smile lit his entire face, his eyes lifting to meet Harry’s gaze.

“And your boyfriend, too, which I guess is an added bonus, right?”

Harry shook his head, his eyes blinking slower than usual.

“Jesus Christ, Lou.” He wrapped him in a bone-crunching hug, pressing his face into the soft skin of his neck, the barest nip of crisp cologne unfurling in his nostrils. “Did you have that suit lying around? It’s, like,” he took a deep breath in his hair, “perfect. Perfect for your body. Perfect.”

Louis broke their hug to step back. He slowly twirled in place, his eyes peeking over his shoulder. He faced forward and placed his hands in his pockets. 

“I wore it to a work thing once.” He rolled up on the balls of his feet. “I thought you might appreciate it.”

“Appreciate it?” 

Harry picked him up off the ground and spun him, Louis chuckling into his hair. Harry stopped spinning, still holding him. His lips opened to suck at his neck, his teeth sinking in. Louis let out a quiet, muffled moan. His head dropped sideways, Harry kissing over the stretched skin.

“You look so beautiful,” Louis said, breath running through his tone. “I dunno how I’m going to make it through the whole night without coming in my pants from looking at you. Your face is like a painting, you’re so handsome. Christ, your eyes are so...How are you real?” 

Harry’s teeth pinched the skin below his collar, sucking at the stinging skin, Louis moaning with more sound and his hand clenching on Harry’s arse. 

“I want to ravage you and we haven’t even left yet,” Harry murmured against his skin.

Louis let his fingertips ghost behind Harry’s ear.

“Forty-five minutes to get all dressed up?”

“Oh no, don’t start quoting Yonce to me.” He stepped back and shook his head, poking Louis’ chest with one finger. “We’ll never get there.”

They managed to separate themselves to journey to the awards ceremony. It was being held at The Savoy, a chic hotel on the banks of the Thames River. Previous parties held at The Savoy included official afterparties for The Brit Awards, along with BAFTA nominated actors and actresses using The Savoy as their launch pad for their stay in London. 

Cocktails would be served in The River Room, a spacious hall in grays and creams overlooking the gardens, followed by dinner in the grand Lancaster Ballroom, which also would be the location of the award ceremony itself. Extensive Googling while at work led to Louis texting Harry photos of the dance scene of Beauty and the Beast, along with questions about who got to wear Belle’s yellow ballgown and who got stuck with the Beast’s blue jacket.

Instead of spending money on a car, they decided to take the tube. They learned in the invitation for the event that The Savoy could accommodate their arrival by private jet, if they owned a private jet. Whatever the outcome of the awards, they planned on being pissed enough later that night to justify spending money on a ride home.

Louis placed his hand on Harry’s bobbing knee, rubbing his palm over the top of his thigh. Harry’s face tilted downwards, a smile appearing on his face. He looked up at Louis through his eyelashes, Louis already smiling at him. Louis plucked out his right earbud.

“Alright?” He squeezed Harry’s knee. The train swayed, Louis’ earbuds bouncing over his chest. “You’re a bit jumpy. S’not like you.”

“Yeah, it’s...You know.” Harry shrugged, inhaling a deep breath through his nose. He blew it out his full, rounded lips. “It’s going to kind of wild seeing all these chefs and restaurateurs. I haven’t been in that,” he swirled his hand in the air, “circle for a few years.” He pulled his collar away from his throat with his index finger. “I kind of dropped off the radar.”

Louis’ lips were a sweet surprise, Harry smiling into the innocent kiss; PDA on the train was not usually on their agenda. Louis pressed their lips together again and the tension in Harry’s neck released, his head lolling in Louis’ direction.

Louis took his other earbud out and turned Harry’s iPhone screen towards himself, pausing the song [Fuck ‘Em Only We Know](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0jUN41cz7zg) by Banks. 

“I have a gift for you.”

Harry blinked at him, dazed, licking his own lips.

“For what?”

Louis smiled, the right side of his lips lifting a touch faster than the left. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled something out, keeping it hidden in his palm. He put both hands behind his back, keeping his eyes locked with Harry’s. He brought both closed fists out in front of him.

“Just because,” Louis said, holding his fists up. “Was thinking of you and this pressie was born.” He nodded down to his hands. “Go ahead. Pick one.”

Harry looked from hand to hand, the wrinkle in his forehead growing deeper. He moved his pointer finger to Louis’ left fist, but Louis hummed, Harry’s eyes snapping to his face. He moved his finger to Louis’ right fist, but Louis hummed even louder and bulged his eyes.

“You’d better pick wisely,” Louis warned, Harry laughing and prodding his stomach. Louis weighed his hands up and down, giggling, “Well?”

Harry tapped Louis’ right hand.

“This one, please.”

Louis turned his fist over and opened his fingers, gasping quietly. 

A silver, rectangular box, no longer than his palm, appeared, red ribbon neatly wrapped around the gift box and a small bow tied on top. 

Harry’s laughter was sudden and shocked. He looked at Louis with excited, shining eyes, his smile nearly swallowing his face.

“A pressie!”

“As if you really thought I wasn’t going to give you anything,” Louis teased, Harry bumping their foreheads together. Their bodies turned towards each other in their seats, their legs bending to tuck their shoes beneath their thighs. “Have at it.”

Harry used the tips of his fingers to lift the box off Louis’ palm. He pulled the end of the bow and carefully unravelled the ribbon from around the box, slow and steady. He placed the ribbon in his pocket, then pulled the top off the box. 

He laughed again, softer, more confusion wrinkling his face. He found what looked like a thin, brown leather wallet inside the gift box, the dark leather buttery beneath his fingertips. He glanced at Louis, who smirked and nodded down at the wallet. 

Harry took it out of the box and felt along the bottom. He turned it over in his hand and saw that there was a thin flap of leather folded over the entire top of the wallet, a small capital HS burned into the bottom corner. He used his thumb to push the front of the wallet up, revealing a small stack of white card stock.

“What--” He blinked down at his hand. He glanced at Louis and laughed out, “What is this?”

“Take one out. Have a look.”

Harry took the top card out of the wallet, his head involuntarily shaking side to side. 

It was a business card for Harry Styles, Chef. The card was white with raised, matte black lettering, the font simple yet masculine. The card included contact information and a small sketch of a whisk placed off to the bottom right corner. 

Instead of his personal information, it listed an unknown mobile number and the email address: harry@harrystyleschef.com, along with the website www.harrystyleschef.com on the bottom centre of the card.

Louis’ voice broke through Harry’s hazy brain.

“You’re going to meet a lot of people tonight who might want to connect with you. Yeah, some people like to exchange phone numbers on the spot, but a lot of networking I’ve done includes people who are a bit older than us. They appreciate a business card.”

“But…” Harry’s blazing smile warmed over Louis’ face. “But what is this phone number? And email? And the website?” He laughed, his nose scrunching and his eyes still confused. “I don’t have a website.”

“You do now,” Louis said, grinning and itching the back of his head. “I, erm, well, I kind of tinkered with the idea of one.” He tilted his head to the left. “Then built one. I haven’t activated it yet. It’s not live. I have to send you an email with the link and you can activate it from your iPhone. The login and password information is all there, and you can change it whenever you want. Don’t feel pressured to have me know the password, this is all for you.”

“Oh my God, you’re so smart,” Harry blurted out. “How did you--Why did you--”

Harry’s mouth flapped soundlessly for a beat, Louis biting his bottom lip and exhaling a laugh.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay with the idea before I made it live. I used a couple of those photos we took in the kitchen. At Helena’s, when you were all done up in your chef’s jacket and your hair looked amazing. Although,” he ran his fingers through Harry’s quiff, “it looks amazing basically all the time. You’re the easiest person to photograph. So photogenic.” 

Louis tapped the face of the business card. 

“The phone number can ring on your mobile, but it’s run through Google to shield your personal number. You’ll get email transcripts of voicemails, if you’d prefer not to have it ring on your mobile. If someone texts you on it, you’ll get it on your phone, as well. I figured it would be best for privacy reasons if you’re giving your information to randoms. Same with the email, it’ll all be forwarded to your personal account, though you could use Gmail to reply on the domain name address. All the login information will be in the email I send to you.”

“You are seriously like Iron Man, holy shit.”

Louis threw his head back, barking laughter into the crowded train car.

“I wouldn’t go that far.” He touched the bottom corner of the card. “Do you like the little whisk? I made a couple of different sketches. Whisk, pastry bag,” his smile quirked crooked, “cupcake. I figured those were baker-ish, yeah? But I could always change them, if you don’t want the sketches. I thought they were very you.”

“Why did you…” Harry placed the cards back in the gift box. He wrapped both of his warm hands around Louis’ right hand, thumbing over his skin. He whispered, “Why did you do all this for me?”

“Because I--”

Louis swallowed and looked down at the business cards.

“Because I want you to be successful,” Louis said, his voice rough. He cleared his throat, smiling up at Harry. “I want you to be able to connect to people, so they know how wonderful you are. And, I, um, I only gave you a few of the basics. You don’t have to use the cards or the site if you--”

Harry’s lips cut Louis off, their hands squeezing as their mouths tenderly opened together, Harry’s right hand cradling Louis cheek. Louis exhaled against Harry’s lips, Harry tilting his face to join their lips firmer.

Louis panted and laughed, Harry kissing the corner of his mouth.

“I can’t wait for you to win tonight,” Louis whispered, Harry’s smile breaking into a snuffled laugh. 

“You have such confidence in me.”

Louis stroked the back of his hair.

“I do.”

Harry sat back and kept his eyes on Louis. He opened his mouth but sighed in the place of words, his lungs attempting to regulate airflow in his butterfly-filled body. He refocused on the business cards balanced on his thighs. He lifted each one, his eyes crinkling more and more as he took in Louis’ hand-drawn sketches.

“A little Le Louis,” Harry said, his voice practically a coo. He beamed and turned the business card to Louis, a small, sketched chocolate on the front of the card. “Lou, these are amazing. Absolutely amazing. They’re perfect!”

Louis took his phone out and unlocked it, tapping the screen a few times. Harry’s thigh vibrated.

“It’s up to you if you want to make the site live.” Louis leveled his gaze on Harry’s face, dropping his voice. “The power is yours.”

Harry guffawed and took out his phone, fingers trembling to access his email. He opened his newest email and clicked on the link for his website. 

“It’ll be the mobile version, but it’s pretty similar to desktop.”

“When you talk design to me it’s like the equivalent of dirty talk,” Harry murmured, waiting for the site to load. 

Louis snorted and elbowed him.

"Silly."

The website loaded, a simple, black and white aesthetic with a photo of Harry and a small blurb as his bio. The same contact information from his card was listed on the site, along with a photo gallery of some of his recent creations.

“I figure this is more like an online business card; just enough to let the reader know about you but with the focus on contacting you for specific inquiries. We can add pictures or more information, if you’d like.”

“It’s perfect,” Harry whispered, switching back to his email. He clicked the link to approve the site, able to see Louis smiling out of the corner of his eye. Harry placed his new gift and his phone in his pocket, cupping Louis’ face with both hands. “Absolutely,” he kissed him softly, “perfect. I can’t thank you enough. Fuck, you’re so fucking brilliant, you know that?”

Louis smiled and leaned into him, Harry’s arm wrapping around his shoulder. They replaced their earbuds and snuggled together, a rarity for them while on public transportation. Harry hit Play and Banks flowed through their headphones, their joined hands resting on Harry’s thigh.

Upon arriving at the venue, they queued up with an assortment of other guests, ranging from nominated chefs to food celebrities to restaurateurs. There were a number of celebrities and models flitting around, though neither could pinpoint why a celebrity would care about an award for chefs. 

Harry gave his name at the door and received a big smile from the event planner who checked him in, a headset balanced on her perfectly styled high blonde bun.

“Welcome, Mr. Styles.” She looked to Louis, her finger poised at an iPad. “And,” she tapped the screen, “Mr. Tomlinson.” She lowered her voice and leaned closer. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m rooting for you tonight. My fiance proposed on Valentine’s and we ate Le Louis chocolates after we,” her professionalism softened to a shy smile, “celebrated.”

They both smiled, Harry’s face flushing and Louis chuckling under his breath.

“Congratulations,” Harry said, Louis adding, “That’s such a good story.”

“Harry Styles?”

They looked forward. A few paces into the hotel brought them to a camera man standing next to a woman wearing a bright yellow pantsuit. The woman held a microphone out, offering them a wide smile, other guests walking around the roped off area.

“I’m Cheri from Foodie News UK. Would you mind doing a short interview for our website? Lots of our readers absolutely love your work.”

Harry’s flush deepened, but he smiled and nodded. Louis rubbed his lower back and stepped away, subtly winking at him. He shuffled to stand next to Cheri, slouching slightly with his hands clasped behind his back. Harry saw Louis out of the corner of his eye. They held eye contact for a beat, Louis rolling his shoulders back and tapping under his own chin to lift it. 

The woman looked at the camera man, who pointed at her and nodded.

“This is Cheri from Foodie News UK,” she chirped into the mic. “We’re here at The London Food and Wine awards with pastry chef, Harry Styles.” She grinned at him, her bright suit and ecstatic smile causing her to turn into a human banana. “Welcome, Harry!”

Harry smiled at her, nodding. 

“Hello, happy to,” he dodged the mic being thrust at his nose, “be here.”

“Tell us, Harry, are you nervous?”

“Erm, not nervous, per say,” he said, his voice a slow drawl. He glanced at Louis and saw him to be smiling, his hand blocking his mouth. Harry smiled wider and focused on Cheri. “I’m honoured to be here. Being nominated was a total surprise.”

Cheri asked a few bakery related questions, Louis listening intently as they discussed different ways of making pastries and doughnuts. He had to give Harry credit for keeping a straight face while Cheri asked about how he liked to fill things with jelly.

“And is this your Louis?”

Cheri saying his name caused Louis to freeze, his brows raised. She beckoned him with one swaying hand, Louis holding his palms out.

“This is Harry’s night,” he laughed quietly, shaking his head. “Ask him more doughnut questions.”

She said, “C’mon over, poppet, I don’t bite!” and gestured for him to step into the frame, Harry grinning down at him.

“This is my Louis, yes.” Harry made room for Louis beside him, he and Louis smiling at each other. “My boyfriend, Louis.”

“Now, Louis,” Cheri said, pointing between them, “being with a chef must have some lovely perks, yes? Home cooked meals? Gourmet birthday cakes?”

Louis smiled at her and nodded.

“Yes, definitely. Harry’s so,” his eyes flitted over Harry’s face, his voice still easy and smooth, “creative. And spontaneous. Very giving and very generous.” He nodded at Cheri, able to feel Harry’s heart eyes beaming at him without even seeing the playback of their video. “As a chef and boyfriend.”

“Harry, have you taught Louis any of your culinary tricks?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, holding out the word.

Louis’ smile grew, his hand rubbing over his chin.

“A few,” Louis said.

“Such as?” Cheri prompted.

Harry studied him for a moment with a close-lipped smirk, his tongue rubbing over the left side of his teeth. 

He kept his eyes on Louis and said, “He quite liked learning how to flambe fruit.”

Louis’ smile was fond, as if he already knew what Harry was going to say.

“Flambe? Really?” Cheri asked, laughing. “Kind of a dangerous trick for beginners!”

“He picked up on it very fast. We’ll be lazing about on a Saturday and he’ll ask if I want a sandwich for lunch. Next thing I know, he’s in the kitchen with a pan of flaming bananas as a, ‘side dish,’ for our sandwiches.”

“Harry has taught me the importance of having dessert,” Louis said, nodding seriously.

The interview wrapped up and they all exchanged hugs, Cheri managing to pinch both of their bums while wishing Harry luck. 

They entered the cocktail reception, people gliding around them in formal wear, waiters and waitresses whizzing through with trays teeming with expensive appetizers. A DJ was stationed against one wall, the song [Uptown Funk](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OPf0YbXqDm0) hitting its chorus as they stepped into the swirling mass of sparkling people. 

They looked up at the high ceilings, their heads craning around the massive room decorated to the nines in shimmering black, gold and cream.

“It’s like we’re in a film,” Louis whispered, Harry’s fingers curling around his hand.

“I feel like any minute I’m going to find out I’m actually a dishwasher for this and the nominations were a joke.”

Louis chuckled and squeezed his hand.

“Not tonight. You can wait on me any other day but today. This is your night.”

“Oh, look, Helena and Henri are here already,” Harry said, Helena wiggling her dainty fingers at them from across the room. They lifted their right hands and waved in unison. “Want to go say hello?”

“Yeah, of course. She looks so cute.”

Helena was all done up in a tasteful black velvet, long sleeved gown with simple pearls around her neck, her normally messy bun fastened in an elegant French twist. Her husband, Henri, wore a smart gray suit and deep scarlet tie, his shoulder length, pure white hair fastened in a low ponytail. 

“She really does,” Harry said, waving again once Henri noticed him, the man’s wrinkled face crinkling even more as he smiled.

“She has such good bone structure and Henri makes me wish I was an old French man.”

Harry laughed, “He is rather dashing. Want to get drinks?”

“Su--”

Louis’ feet froze on the ground, his mouth falling open and the word, ‘Sure,’ left unfinished. He stared at a large group of people at the opposite end of the room. His hand gripped Harry’s hand tight enough to cause a crunch.

“Um, why didn’t you tell me Gordon Ramsay was going to be here?”

Harry grinned slowly, squeezing Louis’ hand.

“Oh wow, is he? I didn’t know he’d be here. That’s insane.” He glanced at Louis, mischief lighting his eyes. “What, are you afraid you’ll pop a boner if you bump into him?”

“I hate you,” Louis whispered, his face expressing the total opposite of his words. They walked along with the crowd to the bar line. “You’re basically my mortal enemy.” He leaned closer to Harry and kept his voice even softer to say, “Speaking of boners,” while directing Harry’s face to the left.

“[Queen Nigella](http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2010/10/28/article-1323968-0BCE9983000005DC-895_306x423.jpg),” Harry exhaled, his eyes wide. “Oh my God. She’s so beautiful.”

Louis brushed their fingers together and made to move towards the bar, glancing over his shoulder. Harry walked quickly to catch up to him with his eyes still on Nigella Lawson’s perfect curves.

They reached the bar. Each grabbed a flute of champagne before joining Helena and Henri across the reception hall. They tried to keep conversation going, but when celebrity chefs would walk past among throngs of admirers and photographers, it was hard for anyone to focus.

“You should go mingle,” Helena said, smoothing the lapels of Harry’s jacket. “You, too, Louis. Go shmooze and network and Tweet, or whatever young people do. Leave us oldies to our champagne.”

She winked at Henri. Louis chuckled and glanced at Harry.

“How about I get us another drink and you,” his eyes darted to the left for a beat, “go speak with that gentleman who is currently pointing at you.”

Harry followed Louis’ gaze. There was a group of distinguished looking men staring at Harry, all with pints of beer in their hands. A smiling, heavily bearded ginger pointed at Harry and gestured for him to come closer.

“I don’t know who that is,” Harry whispered.

“Well, he seems to know who you are, which is probably a good thing,” Louis whispered back. He glanced around the room, noting that more than one group of people had their eyes on Harry. Maybe he’d have to print more business cards in the future. “Why don’t you go introduce yourself? Maybe he’s a baker or something.”

They walked away from Helena and Henri, Louis making a beeline towards the bar while Harry walked over to a group of strangers with his head held high and his shoulders set back.

Louis leaned over the bar and waited, all the bartenders busy with a group of boisterous, tattooed men doing shots at the end of the bar. His eyebrows arched amusedly. He didn’t know it was going to be that kind of party, but Harry had warned him that chefs partied like no other group.

“Tomlinson! Fancy seeing you here.”

Louis looked over his shoulder, a grin breaking over his face.

“Simon, hi,” he said, holding his hand out. They shook hands firmly, Simon pulling him into a warm hug. “I didn’t know you’d be here either.”

Simon patted him once on the back.

“I knew you’d be here before you did.”

Louis blinked at him, mentally replaying every conversation they had in the last year. His brows inched closer together.

“Oh, you…Wait, are you...” His head tilted, his eyes squinting. Then his brows relaxed, his head nodding. “You knew Harry would be nominated. Back with the soup. When he brought me soup for dinner. You said you’d see him very soon. Is this,” he gestured at the crowded banquet hall, “very soon?”

“Maybe,” Simon drawled, stepping up to the bar. A bartender appeared in front of him immediately, Louis stifling a sigh. It must be nice to be Simon Cowell. “Champagne, L?”

“Two, please.”

“Two for me, as well,” Simon said, nodding. He peered around the room. “Simone is here somewhere. She’s actually presenting one of the awards.” A light, tinkled laugh could be heard over the loud buzz of chatter. “Ah, there she is,” Simon said, grinning. He tutted his tongue. “Flirting with Jaques, as usual.”

Louis’ mouth tasted metallic, his lips tingling. For a moment, he kept his words inside, but couldn’t help it when they tumbled out.

“Simon, you’re not....You’re not the reason…”

“A judge?” He snorted, handing Louis two champagnes. “God, no. I’m simply a patron. An advertiser. Why do you think we’re always going to dinners out? Some of my best mates are restaurateurs. Don’t you worry, Tomlinson.” Simon clinked his glass with one of Louis’ glasses. “Your chef earned his nominations all on his own merit. The committee takes these awards very seriously. They’re quite an honour.”

Louis shook his head and wrinkled his nose, hurrying to laugh out, “Right, right, it was silly for me to even wonder that.”

“Not silly. Very bright.” Simon’s eyes lifted over Louis’ head. “Now, I’d best get back to my lovely wife before she runs off with Ramsay, that scoundrel.”

Louis watched Simon walk over to Gordon Ramsay, who was kissing Simone’s high cheekbones with great vigor. Gordon directed his attention to Simon, offering him two loud cheek kisses with Simone laughing at his side.

“What in the world,” Louis whispered to himself.

He looked for Harry amongst the constantly moving bodies, black tie apparel rotating around him like some sort of luxury dry cleaners. He saw Harry shaking the hand of a middle aged man, both of them smiling wide. Harry handed him a business card, accepting a card from the other man. Louis grinned and squeezed his hands on their champagne flutes.

“That’s my boy.”

He watched Harry lift his head over the crowd of people. Their eyes locked, Harry’s expression controlled-ecstatic as he held his business card holder near his face, giving Louis a discreet thumbs up. Louis bit his bottom lip, his nostrils exhaling a silent, snuffled laugh.

He saw another person come up to Harry with their hand outstretched, Harry breaking their smiled stare to introduce himself to the woman, who was dressed smartly in a black pantsuit and black stilettos.

“Hello there, gorgeous! Fuck, you’re as pretty as I heard you were.”

Louis’ eyes remained on Harry’s smiling face for a moment before he realized a lanky man had sidled up next to him, strong, spicy cologne and the smell of stale cigarettes overpowering his nostrils. He blinked at the man, his face neutral.

“Sorry?”

“You’re Louis, yeah? Louis Tomlinson?” He put on a heavy French accent to say, “Le Louis, hoh hoh hoh,” and laugh nasally. Louis’ lips straightened to a tight line, something about the man’s undone tie, abrasive voice, and sky high black spikes ringing a bell. “Haz’s lover, yeah?”

“I’m Louis, yes,” he said, pasting a closed mouthed smile on. “But, sorry, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced?”

“Rick Marshall, of Rick’s Greasy Spoon,” the man said, holding his hand out. “You’ve heard of me, I’m sure? Want to take a selfie? I’ll post it on my Insta!”

Louis placed one flute of champagne on the bar and shook his hand. He’d seen an episode of the Rick’s Greasy Spoon cooking programme a couple of years ago before it was cancelled due to Rick’s off-screen antics and on-screen inappropriate behaviour. He now did a radio show about celebrity gossip, a far cry from hosting a television show about food in dive bars. 

“No selfie needed, thanks.”

“Wonderful to meet you,” Rick said, his eyes darting all over Louis’ face. His skin was glistening with sweat, his pupils dilated. “You’re basically a unicorn.” He bent sideways, making no secret of his wandering gaze. “A unicorn with a bitable arse.”

Louis’ expression remained neutral. At the end of the bar, a rowdier group was demanding shots, their energy like that of a Motley Crue after party, Rick shouting, “Save me one, you cunts!” at the top of his lungs.

“Right, well.” He picked up the champagne flute. “I’d better bring these to Harry, don’t want him to get parched. Nice to meet you.”

“Fuck me,” Rick said, laughing and slinging his arm around Louis’ shoulder. “Sometimes I think about what Haz and I used to get into together with the old gang, and I die laughing. I just die,” he drawled, still giggling. “He was a fucking wild animal, you know?” Louis peered around them, checking to see if Rick’s loud, giggly words were drawing any attention. “No one could party like he could party. That was his nickname in our group. Animal. Because he could go all fucking night, you know?” He elbowed Louis’ side. “In more ways than one, if you know what I mean. I bet you do. Arse like that?”

Across the room, Harry handed over yet another business card and shook yet another hand.

“I can’t believe it,” he said, his heart pounding. He grinned and ducked his face down. “Are you serious?” He squinted up at Celine, the woman Louis had spotted in her elegant black pantsuit. “You can’t be serious. I’m dreaming right now.”

“I’m very serious,” she said, laughing softly. “We’ve been eyeing your product for quite some time. Your work would be perfect to feature in our new boutique line. I’m thrilled we were able to touch base tonight and exchange information.”

“Yes,” Harry said, nodding quickly. He stilled his motions, trying to hide his wide smile. He managed to say, “As am I,” before his face broke open in a smile, Celine chuckling again. 

She studied his business card, her thumb rubbing over a sketched cupcake.

“You’ll have to add an ice cream cone to this,” she said warmly, tapping the card against her palm. “These are so well made. I love the layout.”

“Thank you. My boyfriend designed them,” Harry said, borderline gushing. “He surprised me with them earlier tonight, actually.”

“How lovely!”

“Yes, he is very lovely. And he’ll be thrilled to eat ice cream based on his chocolate.”

Celine laughed, “Won’t we all? Oh, Jacques!” She placed her hand on the forearm of a man standing back to back with Harry. “Hello, love! I didn’t think you could make it!”

Harry stepped aside and looked straight in the face of Mr. Chocolate himself, [ Jacques Torres](https://ciaodownnow.files.wordpress.com/2010/09/jacques-torres.jpg). He willed his expression to remain natural and his body not to collapse to the floor in the presence of pastry chef royalty.

“Are you Harry Styles?” Jacques warmly asked, a gentle French lilt to his voice. “I thought I saw Helena here and hoped you would be, too.”

Harry blinked, his lips rounded.

“Yes, he is,” Celine said, patting between Harry’s shoulder blades. Harry’s body jolted back to life. “We were discussing bringing him into the Bluebell Ice Cream family.”

“How wonderful!”

“You know my name?” Harry asked, then squeezed his eyes shut. He laughed, “Wow, that wasn’t embarrassing at all,” gently slapping his own forehead. Jacques and Celine chuckled, Harry holding his hand out. “I am, sir. Harry Styles. It’s truly an honour to meet you. I had a poster of you in my kitchen when I was growing up.” He smiled at Jacques and Celine’s easy chuckles. “I might have talked to your poster when I was trying to make my first croquembouche.” That prompted more laughter from them, Harry grinning with rosy cheeks. “You got me through many difficult nights during my training, so thank you for that.”

Jacques’ eyes crinkled and he squeezed Harry’s hand.

“Lovely to meet you, Harry. I have not seen such interest in chocolate-making since your Le Louis in many, many years. It is very exciting! Oh, have you tried these?” Jacques let go of Harry’s hand and halted a passing waiter, taking three puffed pastries off his gleaming silver tray. “Harry, try one of these. Celine, you as well.”

While Harry listened to Jacques’ dulcet tones and tried to keep up with a waterfall of delicious appetizers handed his way, his gaze caught sight of Louis across the room at the bar. He swallowed a bite of lamb suddenly, the meat lodging itself in the hollow below his throat.

Louis felt heat on his face and turned his head away from Rick, Rick’s voice still rambling in his ear. He saw Harry staring at him as if he’d seen a ghost, his face chalky and his eyes wide. 

Louis’ eyelid fluttered shut quickly, his chin jutting ever so slightly upwards. The motion seemed to soothe Harry enough for him to go back to his conversation with the two people speaking animatedly to him, his eyes still darting back and forth to where Louis stood.

“It’s not natural, is what I’m sayin’, you know? Humans crave sex. Sex with as many humans as possible. I know all about Harry’s cravings, used to fill a few, myself, and--”

“Yeah, I’m going to stop you there,” Louis said, keeping his face forward. He turned his head enough to smile at him, a hollow, faux-smile, and nod. “You’ve said enough. Harry’s said nothing but kind things about you, and I simply will not stand for you slandering my boyfriend.”

“It ain’t slander if it’s true,” Rick sang, gripping Louis’ shoulder and bending lower, forcing eye contact. His sweat stank of gin, his face dripping. “S’what I’m trying to tell you.” Louis sighed. “All is not as it seems with your Prince Charming, charming as he may be.”

 

Louis shuffled out of Harry’s bedroom, rubbing his fists over his closed eyelids. A pair of borrowed navy sweats hung low on his hips, a white tank (also borrowed) dipping deep in the vee of his chest. 

The flat was dark, save for a single light above the kitchen island. Something creamy and sweet smelling filled the air. 

Harry’s bare back greeted him as Harry stirred a large pot on the stove. He could see that Harry was wearing nothing but black boxer briefs and yellow socks slouched down near his ankles.

“Hey,” Louis rasped, sliding his bum onto an island stool. He propped his elbows on the island, resting his face in his hands. “What’s for breakfast? S’bit early, even for you.”

He saw Harry’s shoulders shudder with a small laugh, the muscles of his back fluttering up and down. Louis pushed the balls of his feet off the stool legs and stepped up to the stovetop. He kissed Harry’s shoulder, rubbing his hand along his spine. He pressed his nose against his outer bicep.

Harry turned towards him, blowing on a spoonful of something hot. He offered it to Louis, who sucked it into his mouth without thought. Louis swallowed and hummed.

“Corn?”

“Yep.” Harry opened a cabinet, pulling down two bowls. He opened a drawer, a ladle emerging. “It’s a creamy corn chowder with fresh crab. Some potatoes and shrimp in there, as well.”

He took the spoon from Harry and licked the back of it.

“S’delicious.” 

“Thanks,” Harry said softly. 

Louis licked his lips. 

“What’s that spice in there?”

“Fennel. I toasted it, then ground it into a powder and put it in the soup. Usually, I’d make a seafood stock with shrimp shells or fish, but wanted to make it quick.”

Louis kissed his shoulder again, wrapping his arm around the small of his back. He squeezed his hip.

“Some midnight snack. I usually stick to ice cream. I figured you were baking something.”

Harry chuckled and handed him a steaming bowl.

“Decided to try and make whatever I could find in the kitchen into a dish. Maybe we’ve been watching too many Top Chef Quickfire Challenges.”

Louis accepted the soup from him. Harry stirred his own soup and sat at the island, Louis hopping up to sit on the kitchen counter. His bare feet swayed enough to bump his heels into the cabinets, each sway causing a quiet thud. 

They ate in silence for a few moments, nothing but the scrape of their spoons and quiet slurps.

Louis tilted his bowl into his mouth, using his spoon to push the remaining potato chunks to the edge of the bowl. He chewed and watched Harry eat, Harry’s head dropped forward.

“Even your version of a chowder is pretty. The potatoes were little, perfect cubes. Adorable.”

Harry chuckled, “Thanks.”

“You couldn’t sleep, hm?”

“Nope.”

“Nerves?”

Harry smiled as he chewed with his mouth shut, tilting his head side to side.

“It’s different from nerves.”

Louis placed his bowl in the sink, crossing his ankles and folding his hands in his lap.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, scraping the last of his soup. His face was blocked by his bowl for a beat. He licked his lips and stood up, placing it in the sink beside Louis’ bowl. “It’s...Weird.”

Louis remained silent, watching Harry soap up the bowls.

“Weird, like,” his eyes narrowed, “you want to eat crab chowder out of my arse, or--” Harry’s throaty laughter interrupted Louis’ pondering, a relieved smile crinkling Louis’ eyes. “You know I’m a little kinky, but I might draw the line at eating shellfish out of an orifice.”

Harry leaned over and pecked Louis’ lips, still smiling.

“Not that kind of weird. Weird, like...” He turned off the sink, drying his hands on a towel. “Old, personal stuff, weird. That I never got around to mentioning.”

Louis’ eyes followed Harry around the dark kitchen, Harry opening a cabinet to take out a large plastic container, along with a smaller plastic bowl. Two matching lids followed.

“What makes you want to tell me?”

“I’d tell you all my secrets,” Harry said, ladeling soup into the smaller container. He smiled crookedly at him. “You know most of them. I...” He popped the lid on the container and held it in Louis’ direction. “I’ll put this in the fridge for you to take to work tomorrow.”

Louis chuckled, nudging Harry’s leg with his toes.

“Thank you. Very thoughtful.”

“S’just…” Harry wrinkled his nose as he smiled, the light of the refrigerator giving him a pale glow. “At the awards thing, you’re probably going to meet some of my old friends. Old, old. Like, the party group kind of old.”

“Alright. And?”

Harry shut the fridge and leaned back on it, his smile strained. 

“Louis, I...When I partied, I used to be…” He exhaled a breath and stepped closer, his palms straight at his sides. He stood in front of Louis. “I’ve done coke. Other party drugs, too, but coke was the most popular with my old group.”

Louis’ face froze for a moment, shock lightening his features. Harry’s jawline twitched, his nostrils shakily exhaling.

“Okay,” Louis said quietly, nodding. 

“I only did it a few times and I don’t do it anymore. I haven’t for years. But, I--I just wanted you to know. That I used to do that when I’d go out.”

Louis nodded again, his legs spreading. He let his feet rub Harry’s outer thighs.

“Okay.” He reached out and gripped his right hand. “Thank you for telling me.”

Harry continued, “And when I worked on the farm, I truly did want to learn about farming. About all the ingredients I use every day. But...I also used it as a sort of detox from all that.”

Louis’ forehead wrinkled, his nods slowing.

“Were you, like, addicted?”

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Not at all. I stopped one day and I’ve never looked back. I never sought it out on my own. It was more like my friends would have it and once in a while I’d partake if I was feeling in the mood. I wanted to detox from everything for a while. Drinking, partying, everything.”

“Do you still want to do it?”

“No. Never again. The come down was never worth the high for me.”

“Alright.”

Harry gulped, his lips trembling into a tight purse. 

“You’re not...You aren’t…”

“You think I’m going to judge you?” Louis asked, his brows arched. He shook his head, squeezing Harry’s hand. “No way. No judgement. I tried coke once, got a nosebleed, thought I was dying, then felt like actual death for two days afterwards.”

He thumbed over Harry’s knuckles, offering him a warm smile before continuing.

“I was so mad at myself afterwards because I never, ever do things only to say I’ve done it. Not without a purpose. I did it to prove to myself I could. Then I did it and,” he shrugged his shoulders, “it was awful for me. But if you liked it at the time, then you had a different experience than I did. Who am I to judge?” 

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Harry’s mouth, cradling his face. 

Louis murmured, “People make mistakes.” He brushed their noses together. Harry pressed his forehead to Louis’ cheek. “You’re allowed to make mistakes. What’s special about you is that you learned from it, and you figured out what you didn’t like about your life. And then you changed it for the better.”

“I’m...Embarrassed,” Harry admitted, dropping his eyes. “And I’m rarely embarrassed.”

Louis stroked the front of Harry’s hair.

“Why, though? You have no reason to be. None of that information changes how I feel about you. Your honesty is a turn-on.”

“Because I look back at my behaviour, and I was just…” He shook his head, laughing under his breath. “Such a mess. It never interfered with work and my family has no idea, thank God. It was fun at times, and I don’t regret it. It was a learning experience. But I feel embarrassed telling you about it because I feel like an idiot. I think about if I would have met you back then, and how I probably would have been an absolute disaster.”

“Harry, everyone is kind of a mess when they’re young. You figure shit out. I’m still figuring shit out and probably will be for a long time.”

“It doesn’t sound like you were a mess,” Harry said, sniffling, wiping his hand under his nose. “You probably walked out of your mum’s womb with your iCal already synced.”

Louis laughed breathily, air from his lips lifting Harry’s quiff. 

“We all have our messy moments. Like…Oh! One time I was so drunk, I walked into the toilet while Liam was having a crap and I vomited on his crotch. Like, directly on his junk.”

“Ew,” Harry laughed, his face scrunched. “Puke cock.”

“See? We all have our moments.” His gaze traced over Harry’s lips, rising up his noble nose to his warm, green, sleep-heavy eyes. Louis smirked. “I knew you had a bit of rock star in you.” He tugged the back of his hair. “You’re too naturally cool not to have a touch of danger in your past.”

“I’m not cool,” Harry giggled.

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m a dork.”

“But you’re still cool.”

“I like to cuddle.”

“That makes you super cool.”

“And garden.”

“Not my thing, but you’re the coolest gardener I know. Hands down.”

“I make corn chowder at two in the morning.”

“Two in the morning!?” Louis looked to the microwave and gasped, tugging Harry’s hair again. “You’ve got to get your beauty sleep. Let’s clean this up. You’ve got to look your best when you win a couple of awards this weekend, rock star.” 

 

“So, by you telling me this, are you hoping I’m going to storm over to Harry and go psychotic? Is that why you’re aiming for? I’m not seeing your plan here, mate.”

Rick crowed, “Mate,” on a long vowel.

“Mate,” Louis said over him, his tone more clipped. His voice dropped. “You reek of booze. I can see from your eyes and the snow under your nose that you’re rolling,” Rick hurriedly wiped his nose, “which is fine. You do you.” He kept his eyes on Harry while speaking to Rick. “But if you continue to speak about Harry in that way to me or anyone here tonight, I’ll have security remove you from the building. He’s done nothing to deserve this.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are, little man?”

Louis sipped his champagne, watching Harry exchange business cards with Gordon Ramsay. Gordon. Ramsay. He smiled, his insides tingling.

“You know, one of the first times Harry and I cooked together, he taught me how to make a proper risotto. We had to dice up an onion and he mentioned how, contrary to popular belief, onions are not only,” he tilted his head left and right, “onion and peel. He went on and on about how there are so many layers to onions, scientific names for each layer and membrane and so on.” His eyes darted to Rick’s confused stare. “I’m sure you know all this, being a former chef.”

Rick’s lips snarled over his large teeth, but Louis did not miss a beat.

“And I was stunned. Who knows so much about about onions? Who cares? But it makes sense that Harry would. He cares so much about everyone he meets. He cares so deeply for bloody onions, something easily dismissed because it stinks and it makes you cry, that he took the time to learn about all their layers. To learn that the very heart of an onion is not actually a heart, but a flower that will keep growing.”

“Who fucking cares about flowers?” Rick droned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What does this have to do with Haz?” He snapped his fingers over the bar. “I need a drink.”

Louis sighed out a breath, smiling.

“It has to do with Haz because he is the centre of an onion. He has layers and layers to him, and he’ll just keep growing. Blooming. While some people,” Louis pursed his lips at Rick with narrowed eyes, “are nothing but the peel. Useless, forgotten, and,” he wrinkled his nose, “a touch sad.” His face relaxed into a polite smile. “Lovely meeting you.”

Harry’s laugh rang out loudly, drawing Louis closer through the throngs of people. Louis took three deep breathes before he reached Harry’s side, focusing on the shimmery gold material of Simone’s evening gown instead of the cooking legend pinching Harry’s cheek.

Louis came up next to Harry and held out his champagne.

“Thank you so much,” Harry said, happy and smiling. His arm settled around Louis’ lower back. “Chef Ramsay, this my boyfriend, Louis Tomlinson.”

“Louis Tomlinson! Yes, yes,” Gordon said, thrusting his hand at Louis. “Brilliant to meet you. Simon’s trying to get me to come to one of your footie games. Says you could give me a run for my money! The fucking imbecile. Curly here thinks you’re Pele with the way he talks about you.”

Louis laughed and shook his hand, Harry giggling beside him.

“It’s an honour to meet you.”

Gordon’s eyes sparkled at him.

“Heard you’re a fan.”

“Um, yeah, definitely,” Louis sputtered out, his face red as a balsamic glazed tomato. “Big fan.”

If big fan meant listening to him berate a group of chefs on television while having explosive sex on a sofa.

“And none of this Chef Ramsay shit,” Gordon said to Harry in his trademark rough voice. “We’re not in a kitchen. Call me Gordon, you silly goose.”

Harry squeezed Louis’ arse, Louis’ laugh rising in pitch.

A group of chefs came over to Gordon, Simone speaking briefly to Harry and Louis before she excused herself.

“Simon’s probably leaving a pile of drool at poor Padma’s feet,” she demured, smiling and tapping Louis’ nose. “See you two later.”

They watched her go in a vision of glimmering gold and lithe limbs, her long, chestnut hair flowing around her body as if all supermodels were provided with constant breezes to fluff their hair. She placed her hand on Simon’s arm, an equally stunning Padma Lakshmi pulling Simone into a graceful double cheek kiss, Tom Colicchio downing a pint beside her. 

Louis and Harry moved away from the boisterous laughs of Gordon’s new entourage, focusing on a quiet area at the entrance of the hotel.

“So, this is insane,” Harry whispered in his ear, dropping a quick kiss in his hair. Their shoes clicked on the marble floor. “How is this happening?”

Louis turned and backed against the bottom of a grand staircase. He straightened Harry’s tie.

“You’re a diamond in the rough. All it took was for you to get a bit of light on you to shine. Now, you’re never gonna get rid of these people. I bet your phone is blowing up already.”

“My phone's battery is nearly dead, so I turned it to Airplane Mode."

"How in God’s name did you feel that tonight, the night of a million celebrities, was a safe night to not charge your phone before you left home?"

"Oh! Did I tell you about the ice cream?”

“No?” Louis said slowly.

“This really nice woman named Celine, she’s over there by Gordon Ramsay--”

“Who, to review,” Louis squeezed Harry’s hips, “we met.” 

“Yes,” Harry laughed, nodding.

“So, Celine?”

“Yes! So, Celine works for an ice cream company named Bluebell,” Harry took in a shaky breath, “and she wants to make Le Louis into ice cream!” His face nearly split from his smile. “Like, to be sold in a store!”

Laughter bubbled out of Louis’ body.

“Oh my God, that’s wonderful, baby!” He gently squeezed his hips and jostled him side to side. Harry giggled and swayed his head with the motion, his hands pulling the bottom of Louis’ jacket in rhythm. “Fuck,” Louis sighed fondly. “You’re so cute. Just one store?”

Harry’s eyes widened.

“No, like, lots of stores!”

Louis looked around quickly. He stood on tip toe and pressed his lips to Harry’s, rubbing his stomach through his jacket. Harry smiled and pulled Louis into his body, ducking his face down to rest beneath Louis’ jawline.

“So happy for you,” Louis murmured into his hair, rubbing his lower back. “See? You’re a star in the making.”

“Oh!” Harry’s body popped to his full height, his blazing smile renewed. “And Jacques Torres liked my business card. Jacques. Torres.” He scream-whispered, “Jacques Torres! He liked my business card! He knows my name!”

“Is tonight basically like your equivalent of going to the Oscars?”

“Yes!” Harry quietly exclaimed, his body vibrating and his smile enormous. “And Jacques Torres is the pastry chef equivalent of Meryl Streep!”

Louis laughed again with his head thrown back.

“Holy cannoli.” He tucked a curl over his ear, the enormous crowd and loud music falling away around them, leaving him with only Harry’s beautiful face and warm hands. “You’re so cute.”

“Harry Styles?”

Louis looked around Harry’s side as Harry turned towards the voice.

“Yes, I’m Harry Styles,” Harry said, smiling, shaking the man’s hand. He had warm brown eyes and neatly combed dark hair. “And this is Louis Tomlinson, my boyfriend.”

“Hi,” Louis said, putting some air between Harry and himself. “Nice to meet you.”

“My name’s Ben,” the man said, shaking Louis’ hand. He directed his eyes to Harry. “I’m not sure if you remember me, Harry, but we met a number of years ago.”

Harry squinted at him as he smiled, his lips pursing to the side. 

“Sorry, but…” Harry’s squint relaxed, his smile growing. “Yes, Ben! Ben Winston, right?”

“Yes! That’s me. Wow, good memory.”

“How are you? It’s been a while.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

Harry’s arm looped around Louis’ waist, easily pulling him to his side as if they’d attended millions of events together. Louis stifled a goofy smile, his insides sending bolts of shivers through his body.

“How’s your wife?” Harry asked, a small wrinkled forming on his forehead. “I think she was about to have a baby the last time we spoke?”

“Yes, she’s good, thanks,” Ben chuckled, nodding. He looped his thumbs in his pockets. “Excellent memory. She was indeed pregnant and is actually pregnant again.”

“Right on,” Harry grinned, his hand squeezing Louis’ hip. “That’s amazing.”

“I was actually hoping I’d see you here tonight. You would’ve gotten an email eventually, but I’m glad we can talk face to face.”

Harry hummed, “Really? Why? What about?”

“I’m still with Bravo and we’re casting for the next season of Top Chef.” Louis strained to keep his eyes on Ben’s face and his smile neutral. “It’ll be in New York, next season, and we’re all very excited about it. Do you think we could sway you this time around?” Ben pressed his palms together and smiled. “Please say yes. We were so sad you declined last time. The whole team loved you.”

Louis’ brows arched, his mouth rounding to a perfect, small O. 

Before Harry could answer, Louis blurted out, “You were going to be on Top Chef?” 

“Top Chef: Just Desserts,” Harry explained quietly. “It was--” He glanced at Ben for a split second, looking back to Louis. “It was for pastry chefs. I, erm, was recruited, but decided it wasn’t right for me.” He swallowed a gulp of champagne and smiled at Ben. “I’m honoured, but I’m pretty private, to be honest. When I declined a few years ago, I think that was the right move, as lovely as you and the whole team were. I don’t think it’s the right fit for me. I want to focus on my food.”

Ben sighed, a good-natured smile on his face, and cracked his knuckles, all three men laughing. 

“How about this,” Ben said, reaching into his jacket pocket. “Let me give you my card, you think about it,” he held out a business card, “and I’ll be in touch in the next week or so. Shall I contact you at Helena’s?”

“No, I,” Harry’s arm dislodged from Louis’ waist, “can give you a card.” Louis took his champagne from him. “My card. It has my information.”

They exchanged cards.

“Cute whisk,” Ben said, Harry and Louis flushing in unison, Harry’s cheeks stained a deeper red while Louis took on a ruddy glow. “I do hope you’ll reconsider.” Ben held his hand out and Harry shook it. “We’re not casting for Just Desserts, by the way. This is for Top Chef, the proper programme.”

Confused, Harry asked, “Wait, not the dessert one? Isn’t that for savoury chefs?”

Ben squeezed his hand.

“We have faith in you, Harry.” He smiled at Louis and clasped his fingers together. “Please, try to convince him. That show desperately needs someone like him. I know he’d be amazing. And it could be an excellent networking opportunity.” He patted Harry’s shoulder. “Lots of investors and restaurateurs would get to see you and try your food.”

Louis shook Ben’s hand, his mouth somehow making the words, “So great to meet you,” come out as his brain danced with images of Harry on television.

Ben left them with their half full champagne glasses, both silent as they watched him disappear into the crowd. Louis downed the rest of his drink in one swoop and placed his glass on the staircase bannister. He licked his lips.

“You tell me about the coke but not that you were almost a reality television star?” He shook his head and shuddered dramatically, his face warped in extreme disgust. “Do you know me at all?”

“I forgot! Honest!” Harry laughed, Louis’ disgust melting to a smile. “It was when I was a kid. I was eighteen. I could tell even back then it would be bad, that I’d just be the inexperienced newbie used to get laughs.”

Louis’ hands flattened on his chest.

“You’re not an inexperienced newbie anymore, though. This...” 

“Are you…” Harry blinked quickly, his brows pinching together. “Do you really think I should try?”

Louis shrugged easily.

“What’s the harm? It could be great for your career.” Louis smiled, stroking the side of Harry’s neck. “If you ever wanted your own shop or bakery, maybe this would be a good way to find a financial backer. Or it could be a fun way to travel and win prizes. People win cars and trips and stuff, you know?”

“But,” Harry’s lashes fluttered, his head shaking, “it’s real Top Chef, not the one for pastry chefs. I’d get kicked off the first episode. Top Chefs know how to make things with raw fish. Raw meat. Sashimi and carpaccio and ceviche and--And they cook goose and conch and rabbit.” Panic flashed in his eyes. “I don’t think I could ever hurt a rabbit.”

“Harry--”

“And they use all kinds of crazy ingredients I’ve never cooked with eaten or even heard of!” Harry jerked his hand through his hair. “I’d be terrible. Just terrible. And they’d dig up information about me and you and our families. That’s how reality shows work!”

“Relax, baby, relax,” Louis chuckled, squeezing his shoulders. “You haven’t even applied and you don’t have to apply. If you want to apply, great. If not, great, too. And, psh,” he shrugged a casual shoulder, “we can practice with lots of crazy foods, excluding rabbits.”

Harry took a deep breath, nodding along with Louis’ words.

“Okay. I’ll...I’ll think about it.”

“And, for what it’s worth,” Louis pulled on the knot of his tie, “I think you’d be amazing at it. You’re so smart, and reality shows are mostly about smarts, yeah? It’s how you play the game, not the person who is the most technically advanced.”

Concern darkened Harry’s features.

“I think we’ve been watching too much telly.”

“Never,” Louis growled, poking his stomach. Harry’s smile was slow but stretched across his face. “No pressure. Apply if you wish. But it sounds like they really like you. That guy remembered you from years ago. That’s got to mean something.”

Once cocktail hour came to an end, guests were ushered into the ballroom. Harry and Louis were seated with Helena and Henri, along with four other pastry chefs and their dates. Their table was towards the back of the space and off to the right. 

There was a stage set up at the front, but the majority of the room was taken up by round tables covered in shimmery cream coloured tablecloths, tall centrepieces with wild orchids and lilies dotting each table. 

Deep purple velvet high-backed seats stood proudly in front of each place setting, formally arranged with each utensil and glass equally spaced from the white centre plate. 

“It’s like Pretty Woman,” Harry whispered in Louis’ ear, fluffing his napkin over his lap. 

He watched Louis smile as he unfolded his napkin, sparkly blue eyes sneaking a look at him. Louis gestured to the row of four glasses at each plate.

“What are all these glasses even for?”

Harry kept his hand low, but pointed from glass to glass, listing, “Water, wine, sherry, champagne.”

Louis quirked an amused eyebrow.

“I guess you paid better attention in Pretty Woman than I did. Is our new place going to require four glasses at each meal?”

Harry smirked.

“Only for Sunday lunch.”

They read over the individually printed menus, Louis hardening only a tiny bit in his trousers as he thumbed over the high quality card stock and printing ink.

**MENU**

** Amuse-bouche **

Seared sea scallop, miso glace, sweet corn salad

** Soup **

Roasted pumpkin soup, wild mushrooms

** Salad **

Wild greens, sliced Granny Smith apple, gorgonzola, balsamic walnut dressing

** Main Course **

Braised short ribs, baby carrots, green beans, whipped wasabi-infused potatoes

-or-

Salmon sous vide, crushed hazelnuts, ground sesame seeds, honey drizzle, jasmine rice

-or-

Hand-rolled gnocci arrabbiata, prawns, sweet peas, chili oil drizzle

** Cheese **

A selection of artisan cheeses, organic fruit, olives, and biscuits.

** Pudding, Coffee, Tea **

All puddings to be served as miniatures.  
Guests are encouraged to try as many as they desire!

Apple and blackberry crumble with cream 

Sticky toffee pudding

Spotted Dick

Panna cotta, fresh raspberries, mint

Chocolate mousse, almond whipped cream, caramel drizzle

**Vegetarian or gluten-free options available for each course, upon request.**

The meal was exquisite. Course after course prepared by the most experienced hands in London, paired with the finest wine money could buy.

By the time the miniature puddings came out on shining silver trays, Louis and Harry were buzzed and giggling into their tea, their hands starting to wander under the table. Even Helena’s cheeks were rosy as she whispered something to Henri, the other guests at their table equally jolly.

A spoon tapped against a glass near a microphone, the room directing their attention at the stage. An attractive, older woman stood on the stage, her asymmetrical white bob accented by a bolt of neon pink running around the bottom of her hair.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for joining us this fine evening of culinary delights,” she said into the microphone, her voice almost as hooty as Julia Child. “Please find your seats. We’d like to begin handing out some medals.”

“I sort of forgot this was an awards thing,” Louis said quietly, Harry grinning around his spoonful of toffee pudding. “The food’s been so good. It’s warping my brain.”

Harry rubbed his stomach, placing his spoon in his empty plate.

“I caught Ravi in the toilets and told him he wasn’t joking about us eating like princes. I’m glad you got the salmon so I could try it.”

“I’m glad you got the short ribs. I’ve never had short ribs before.”

“You stole almost all of my baby carrots,” Harry said grumpily, unable to stop smiling despite his best effort to be stern, Louis giggling with his tea cup against his bottom lip. “Though I did eat most of your hazelnuts.”

Louis caught sight of glinting gold medals on stage, their ribbons a thick, velvety looking purple fabric. He rubbed Harry’s thigh.

“You get a medal if you win?”

“I guess so.” Harry shrugged, finishing his tea. “I didn’t think to research what the award actually looks like. I thought it’d be a certificate or something.”

“If you get the gold, do we all have to stand up and sing God Save the Queen?”

Harry burst out laughing, Louis grinning at his side. 

The ceremony began. For each award, a celebrity or chef would come out from backstage to a round of applause and say a short prepared blurb about their chosen category. Most winners gave short speeches, though some winners opted to take their time thanking every person they had ever met. Different strokes for different folks.

The categories started with general awards for cookbooks, publications about food and wine, journalists who specialized in culinary reviews, and cooking programme producers. There were even awards for the people who designed the interior of restaurants, an award presented by none other than Simon Cowell.

A new buzz of energy filled the room when they moved on from corporations, television networks, and publishing houses to the categories for the actual chefs and restaurateurs present in the room. Some awards were based on region, others based on restaurant size, until finally they were down to the nitty gritty best chef awards that Harry was nominated for. 

There was no program to follow for the order, meaning each time a new judge entered the stage, it was a surprise as to what award would be presented. That led to excited audience members drinking heavily between awards, the wait staff running between tables with bottles of champagne and trays of mixed drinks.

Harry brought his lips to Louis’ ear, both looking towards the stage and clapping at whatever award was being handed out.

“I didn’t know we were supposed to make a speech if we win,” he whispered, his nose brushing through the hair above Louis ear. The champagne running through his veins kept his words slow, his brain shrugging its figurative brain-shoulders and opting not to send panic signals to the rest of his body. “What am I...I don’t even…Mmm, your hair...” He took a longer sniff, champagne bubbles rising to the surface of his skin. “Fuck, you smell so good,” he said, his voice a deep purr. “Fuck me,” he gripped Louis’ upper thigh, “you’re so hot.”

Louis glanced sideways at him, keeping his smile neutral and his hands still clapping.

“I love your honesty and delivery, but I’d suggest leaving that bit out when you accept your award, though it would be quite amusing if you thanked my hair in your acceptance speech.”

Harry grinned and nudged their knees together, folding his hands in his lap. The audience quieted down, glasses clinking and quiet chatter filling the room. Louis slid his arm around Harry’s shoulders, speaking softly into his ear.

“Just be yourself. You’re amazing and charming and wonderful. You could go up and yawn into the mic and I’d still faint in my seat.” He saw Harry’s shoulders shudder, quick breaths exhaled out of his nostrils. “Keep it short, speak from here,” he rested his palm on the centre of Harry’s chest, “and you’ll send the food community into orbit, they’ll be so charmed. You’ve got this.”

Harry turned towards him with a shaky smile as the audience began to applaud again. Louis nodded once and squeezed the back of his neck, Harry’s smile gaining strength.

The announcer boomed, “Please welcome international supermodel and host of Britain & Ireland's Next Top Model, Simone!” 

Simone floated onto the stage like a goddess, her gold gown cascading in beaded waves behind her. The audience clapped louder, along with some loud whistles. Louis saw his boss at a nearby table and grinned, Simon’s fingers between his teeth as he whistled the loudest for his wife.

She smiled at the audience and nodded, letting the applause quiet down. She tossed her brown hair over her shoulder, balancing an envelope in her hands.

“I am honoured to be here to announce The Food and Wine Awards Best New Chef Under Age Twenty-Five.”

Harry gulped and dropped his hand between their chairs, Louis’ hand already waiting for him. They stared up at the stage, Simone’s voice sailing through the room.

“It was an especially competitive year for our new chefs,” she continued, reading off of a teleprompter at the base of the stage. “Our chefs, all under a quarter of a century in age, brought us the most daring of molecular gastronomy, revolutionized English culinary standards, and reinvigorated time honoured traditional French pastry, all done with technical mastery and presentation far beyond their years. Our new chefs have taught us to be daring, be bold, and to never be afraid to make food,” her face tilted towards the right of the room, “romantic.”

There was a round of soft laughter, the chefs around Harry’s table looking at him with playful smiles. Harry dropped his head down, smiling. As Simone read the nominees, Louis rubbed between his shoulder blades, hugging him with one arm. He brought his lips to Harry’s ear.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, kissing his earlobe quickly. Harry shook in his seat with their hands clasped tightly in his lap. “I forgot to tell you, after you win tonight,” Louis kept his face towards the stage and whispered even softer, “I’m going to tie you to the bed with your medals.”

Harry’s shaking morphed into laughter, his head tilting to rest against Louis’ shoulder.

“And the winner is...” Simone opened the envelope. Her modelesque expression lifted into bright surprise. “Harry Styles.”

“Yeah!” Louis cried, holding out the word as applause erupted. 

Harry threw his arms around Louis and hugged him tight enough to cut off circulation, his face pressed to Louis’ neck. Louis squeezed him, Helena hugging Harry from behind. Harry pulled his smiling face out and quickly pressed their lips together, Louis’ fingers trembling in his hair. 

Harry smiled at Louis before he stood up and turned to Helena, wrapping her in his long arms. She patted his bum, shouting something in French to him, and he broke the hug, walking around the table to shake Henri’s hand. 

Harry started to move towards the stage. One of the waiters kindly pointed for him to turn around and walk the other way, Harry spinning on his heel amongst laughter from the audience. 

Harry walked up the side aisle to the stage, applause still thundering. 

“Well done, Styles!” Simon shouted as he passed his table.

He slapped him on the arse, Harry’s steps hitching with a throaty, giggled sound. 

Harry kept his smile pasted on, whispering, “Fucking hell, this is like the Oscars,” without moving his lips.

He reached the stage and kissed Simone’s cheeks. The woman with the pink streak in her hair came up to him, Harry bending low enough to allow her to loop a medal over his head. He stepped up to the mic, smoothing his fingers over the shining circle of gold on the centre of his chest.

“I...Really, truly did not think I was going to win, so I have nothing prepared to say. But, I…” 

Harry looked to Helena in the audience, the lights from the stage almost too bright to make out faces. He could see Helena and Louis had moved to sit next to each other, Louis holding both of her hands, tears streaked down Helena’s wrinkled cheeks. Perhaps the lights were playing tricks on him, but he could have swore he saw similar wetness dotting the skin beneath Louis’ eyes.

“I, erm…” He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, willing his tears to remain lodged in his throat for the length of his speech. “Thank you to my family and friends for always being so supportive. My family especially. My amazing mum, my dad, my step-dad, and my brilliant sister. They’re the most supportive family a person could ask for and I am so lucky that they are mine.”

“Enormous thank you to Helena and Henri Beausoleil,” the audience applauded softly, “for letting me learn from them every day I spend at Helena’s. For letting me have the freedom to create and experiment. Many thanks to the great Chef Bastien Pierrot,” the audience applauded louder at the familiar name, “for taking me into his home, his kitchen, and his pâtisserie in Paris. I owe so much to him and his patience, especially after I nearly blew up his kitchen when I left a batch of beignets on for too long.”

The audience laughed properly at that, Harry chuckling under his breath. He lifted his right hand to push his hair off his sweating forehead.

“I have to thank my Louis--”

Oh God, the tears are going to come, he thought, looking away from his table. They’re coming, hold off, they’re coming!

“--My boyfriend, Louis. Who is...Who...” 

His voice warbled almost slight enough not to be noticed, but enough of a difference to make the audience sigh sweetly and sit forward in their seats. 

Harry’s heart pounded in his ears, his body pouring out sweat, his shirt sticking to the skin of his upper ribs and lower back. His brain scrambled to put something so intangible, so incredible, into simple words. His jawline flickered, his hand flattening over his heart without realizing he had lifted his hand from his side.

“Who gives me such strength and confidence, such happiness and courage, by being himself and allowing me to be myself. I can’t imagine my life without him.” 

He looked at his table and saw Louis was clutching his own cheeks, his smile blinding. Harry blinked rapidly and laughed again, exhaling a soft huff under his breath.

“A lot of you have, erm,” he widened his eyes, “met him via his namesake chocolate.” The audience laughed, Harry able to see Louis burying his smiling face in Helena’s shoulder. “And I think it is safe to say that I am standing up here tonight because of him. I can’t thank him enough. So,” he he exhaled, a smile spreading over his face, “I’ll stop boring you all now.” The audience started to applaud as he lifted his medal off his chest. “Thank you to The Food and Wine Awards for a lovely evening and such an incredible honour. All the love.”

The audience took their cue to applaud properly, Harry walking towards the stairs. The hostess snagged his arm and pulled him in the opposite direction, Harry laughing but following her, applause and heartbeats burning in his ears. He was led backstage behind a curtain, Geoffrey Zakarian taking the stage to present the next award.

“He won!” Louis whisper-shouted into Helena’s neck, keeping his voice as discreet as possible. Helena’s laughter was anything but discreet, her hands clutching at Louis’ jacket. “I knew it! I knew he would win!”

Helena pulled back and dapped her napkin over her eyes.

“My only son hates cooking with a passion and we never had any other children.” She blew her nose into the napkin, chuckling wetly. “When Harry came into our lives, it was like the second son we never had.”

Louis face crinkled as he smiled, his hand rubbing Helena’s back. He sat up straighter and took out his iPhone.

“I’ve got to text everyone,” he said to himself, thumbs flying over the screen. The sound of the audience applauding made Louis look up, another award already handed out. “Weird. Where’s Harry?”

“Maybe they’re doing photos backstage?” Henri offered, holding Helena’s hand on top of the table. “Or an interview, maybe?”

“Maybe,” Louis said, sending out a group message to Zayn, Liam, Niall, and Ed. 

HE FUCKING WON!!!!!!!!!!! BEST NEW CHEFFFFF!!!!!!!! 

He tapped a more polite notification out to Anne and Gemma, adding ten confetti Emojis at the end. He reached for his champagne. 

“I need a drink. I think I was more excited than he was.”

Helena chuckled and reached for her own champagne, another judge entering the stage.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” a kind voice said into the mic, Louis’ head snapping up to the stage. Jacques Torres steepled his fingers against his chest and bowed slightly forward. The audience continued to applaud, some people standing up at their tables. “You lovely, lovely people. Thank you very much.”

The applause quieted, Jacques poking the pad of his thumb with a corner of the envelope in his hands.

“I am here to present the award for Pastry Chef of the Year, a category near and dear to my heart.”

Louis sputtered into his champagne glass, bubbles flying up his nose.

“It’s Meryl,” he gasped. “Where’s Harry? This is his category.”

“Meryl?” Helena queried.

Louis wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked around the crowded room. The lights from photographer flashes and moving spotlights caused the room to look like a growing disco party, towering centrepieces and bundles of silver balloons blocking his view. 

He nearly missed Jacques announcing Harry’s name among the nominees, only hearing the tail end of, “Styles,” before Jacques announced another nominee, a chef named Max who was seated at their table. Max lifted his chin and nodded, someone at the table behind them patting Max’s back. 

Louis’ body signalled for his hands to clap for all the nominees at the appropriate times, though his eyes were scanning around the room.

“And the winner is,” Jacques said, ripping the top of the envelope. 

The audience went quiet. Louis’ froze on the end of his seat, his hands clasped together against the centre of his chest.

Jacques exhaled, “Ah! Très excitant.” He smiled warmly and turned the card to the audience. “Le jeune chef, Harry Styles.”

Louis’ throat released a watery sound halfway between a cheer and a shriek, Helena all but fainting into him. He clapped so hard his hands ached, his face burning he was smiling so wide.

Harry came out from behind the black backstage curtain, smiling bashfully and lifting his right hand to wave at the applauding crowd. His limbs looked especially long in his tight black suit, his hair bouncing as he walked. 

He embraced Jacques in the middle of the stage, both whispering something to each other that was not picked up on the mics. Jacques patted his back and stepped to the side of the stage.

Harry walked up to the mic, grinning. His face was flushed as if he had just run a mile (or taken Limoncello shots backstage with the Barefoot Contessa, Ina Garten. He bent slightly sideways to reach the mic, his face to the side of the stage as he addressed the audience.

“Chef Torres dared me to make my acceptance speech en français.”

The audience laughed, Jacques Torres’ laugh picked up in the mic.

“Ce sera une bonne pratique!” Jacques said through cupped hands, the audience continuing to applaud.

“The chef said Harry needs to practice his French,” Helena whispered to Louis, chuckling.

Someone slid into the seat beside Louis. He was too busy holding Helena and sending heart eyes to the stage to notice who it was.

“Anyway, erm, this is, of course, an outrageous honour,” Harry said, his right hand laced in the back of his hair. He smiled, seemingly out of breath. “Of all awards, this is the one I thought I wouldn’t ever come close to even being nominated, let alone win. So, thank you, truly, to the judges and the Food and Wine committee for even considering me. The other nominees are absolute legends.”

That drew a round of polite applause from the audience, the other nominees preening under the wandering spotlights. Louis felt someone squeeze his shoulder, his eyes on the stage.

Simon’s voice murmured, “Your boy was built for this,” in his ear. 

From the stage, Harry continued, “I want to thank my mum, again, for being the most incredible woman, mother, and friend. Most kids wanted toys for Christmas. I asked her for a double boiler to make chocolate Santa lollipops,” the audience chuckled warmly, “and she nodded and said, ‘Sure! Let’s get you a proper pastry bag, as well!’”

As the audience laughed, Simon patted Louis’ back.

“Hold on to him.” He squeezed the tops of Louis’ shoulders. “He says the right things to the right people at the right time, and it’s not an act. It’s just him. You moving to New York will be the smallest adventure you two have.”

Louis swallowed thickly, his eyes burning but his proud smile still in place. He nodded curtly at Simon, offering his boss a small smile. Simon grinned and tugged on Louis’ earlobe.

“I think your chef’s talking about you again.” He fluttered his eyelashes. “The bore.”

Louis looked back at the stage as Harry said, “I think I’ll thank my boyfriend again, en français this time, to see if his Duolingo practice has paid off.”

Harry looked into the quietly chuckling audience. He was able to make out Louis’ hair amongst the flashing lights, a shift of Louis’ posture bringing his eyes into Harry’s line of vision, blazing blue momentarily pinning him in place. 

He smiled with as much warmth as he could before beginning to speak in a low drawl, keeping his pace slow and being sure to enunciate each word.

“Merci, Louis. Beau Louis. Doux Louis. Ma,” he held out the word to think, his smile growing, “petite aventure et surprise parfaite.”

At their table, Helena whispered translations into Louis’ ear.

“Thank you, Louis,” she said, Louis’ eyes glued to the stage, to his chef. “Beautiful Louis. Sweet Louis. My little adventure and perfect surprise.”

Louis’ eyes welled up without notice, his smile becoming difficult to keep from trembling. His fingernails dug into his palms.

“Fuck,” he sighed out, smiling wider.

“Mon challenge favori.” Harry nodded as he spoke, his smile wobbling and his voice gruff. “Mon étincelle. Mon…”

“My favourite challenge,” Helena whispered in his ear. She let out a small giggle. “My crackle. My…”

Harry pressed his lips together and nodded again, his fingers digging into the upper left side of his chest. He felt the words throbbing in his heart, his breaths echoing in his own ears, before they rolled off his tongue.

“Mon amour,” he exhaled, breath running through his involuntary, shuddered laugh, his hand clutching tighter. He smiled and nodded his head, staring at the glowing outline of Louis at their table. “Merci beaucoup, mon amour.” 

Helena’s mouth popped open to stare at the stage, Louis’ perfect round lips and wide eyes a mirror of her expression. A mixture of clapping and murmuring started, sections of the audience droning, ‘Aww,’ in the sweetest of tones. 

Harry held up his second medal and finished in a more normal voice, “Merci pour cet immense honneur” He bowed his head. “Thank you so much.”

The audience applauded, most people standing. Louis remained in his seat as the rest of the crowd stood up. Helena hauled him up by his forearm, Louis clapping as fast as the pounding of his heart.

She shouted, “He said--”

Louis just nodded and smiled at Helena. 

“It’s okay,” he said, the sound barely carrying over the thunderous applause. The corners of his small lips twitched higher, his eyes glistening. “I understood him.”

“Not like it’s anything new,” she said, squeezing Louis’ forearm. “Petits tourtereaux.”

Louis said nothing, his cheeks tinged pink and his smiling face directed at the ground. 

“Erm…” He smiled wider, shaking his head side to side. “Not…” He ran his hand through the back of his stiff hair, his hair spray still holding strong. “We’ve never…”

Helena’s eyes widened.

“Ah. I see.” She smiled and thumbed the underside of his wrist, squeezing his hand between both of her hands. “Mais pourquoi pas? Stupides garçons.”

Backstage, Harry tried to get back to his table, but every time he was close to an exit, someone would wrap him in a congratulatory hug or pull him into a conversation. His fingertips felt callused from shaking so many hands, his throat sore from chatting with so many new, smiling faces. 

None of those feelings could overpower the jolting buzz that had settled beneath his skin after winning the first award. Thank the culinary gods for the various celebrity chefs backstage who invited him to do a shot of something. The stage manager had been vague about why he couldn’t go back to his seat after winning Best New Chef; those shots saved his sanity.

The liquid courage turned the jolting buzz to a pleasurable vibration, his heart pounding but his lungs breathing normally and his brain sending sensible words out of his mouth, as if he was aware of how excited he was, but his body promised to take care of him in a time of such excitement. Limoncello turned to a truth serum, the most honest thoughts that had been lingering in his brain finally making out into the world.

Before he knew it, the ceremony was wrapping up, all before he managed to get back to the audience. To Louis.

He filed out of the backstage area with the rest of the chefs, their group mixing in with the other guests near that exit. Music pounded from outside the ballroom door, vibrations buzzing the bottom’s of his shoes. They were led into the first reception hall, which had been cleared of all furniture besides the bars flocking each side of the room. The lights had been dimmed, accent lights darting around the room and taking it from elegant banquet to posh dance club.

He caught sight of black velvet and pearls.

“Helena!” he shouted over the noise, hurrying through a few layers of people.

Helena spun towards the shout, her face lighting up.

“My love!” 

She held her hands out to cup his face, Harry pulling her into a tight hug. Helena kissed his cheeks rapidly, Harry giggling and scrunching his nose.

“Oh, we were so happy at the table,” she said, still kissing his face. “Did you hear us screaming for you?” Harry nodded and stood to his normal height, his hands resting on her shoulders. “We are so proud of you!”

Harry hugged her again, pressing his face into her rose scented neck.

“Thank you for being the most wonderful boss in the world,” he whispered. He kissed her cheek, Helena giggling girlishly. “Seriously. I love you and Henri so much. You’re like family. It means the world to me that you were here tonight.”

Helena’s eyes lit up, her gaze floating over Harry’s shoulder. She gently jutted her chin forward.

“Speaking of love,” she said, her voice sparkling like fresh champagne. “He has returned.”

Harry turned around and looked up. He watched Louis walk down the grand staircase where they held their small meeting before the ceremony began. 

The walls had not been repainted. The light fixtures had not been replaced. Yet watching him walk down the steps, an action so simple, felt like he was watching a musical in slow motion, colour and movement and bodies dancing in and out of frame with a golden light beaming to accompany Louis’ journey to the bottom of the stairs.

Harry said, “I…” 

He tried to direct the single syllable to Helena with his face still turned towards the staircase, his eyes taking in the sway of Louis’ curved hips, the flex of his thighs beneath his tight black trousers, the easy bounce of his hair. 

Helena gave his bum a small swat, Harry’s feet propelling him through the crowded room.

It felt surreal to walk through so many strangers who knew his name, people calling out congratulations and reaching out to touch him. Harry smiled and shook hands with people, acknowledging all of the words of encouragement flying his way, but he kept his steps sure. He reached the bottom of staircase, Louis two steps higher than him.

“Hi,” Louis said, moving down to the last step. 

“Hi,” Harry rasped. He swallowed and stepped closer, the tips of his shoes pressed to the marble step. “I feel like we’re in Titanic.”

Louis chuckled, his eyes so warm Harry felt sweat break out along the collar of his shirt.

“This whole night has been very film-like.” He tapped Harry’s stacked medals. “Though I hope it ends a bit differently than poor Jack and Rose. I’d share my door with you anytime.”

Guests and chefs flowed at a steady rate around them, a dance floor growing beyond the staircase. 

“Do you see Simon?” Harry asked.

Louis’ eyes scanned the crowded room.

“No,” he said, confused. “Why?”

Harry wrapped both arms around Louis’ waist and twirled him down off the last step, Louis smiling and laughing quietly. He kept his arms around him, Louis’ hands flat on his chest.

“Congratulations,” Louis whispered, his hands sliding up to cup either side of Harry’s neck. He stood on tiptoe and kissed Harry with as much heat as he could in a public setting, Harry’s head lolling on his neck. “I’m so, so proud of you.” Louis licked his own lips before pressing another soft kiss to Harry’s mouth. “You taste like candy.” His head tilted, their lips brushing together. “What were you drinking?”

Harry smiled and buried his face in Louis’ neck.

“Limoncello with Ina Garten.”

“Ooh, la la! Did she offer to make you a picnic?”

“Not yet,” Harry snuffled, Louis’ hand cradling the back of his neck. “Thank you so much for coming.” He nuzzled closer. “And for being you.”

“Of course, Sugar Plum.” Fingertips lightly ran through the back of Harry’s hair. “There’s no where else I would ever want to be.”

Harry’s face pressed harder against Louis’ skin. He glanced around them for nearby bosses, finding only guests dancing and drinking. He opened his lips on Louis’ neck, pinching his teeth just below his collar line. He felt Louis’ breath hitch, fingers tightening in his hair.

Harry murmured, “Would it be bad for my career if I suggest leaving now?” He nibbled again, pinching slightly harder. “Want to take that suit off you with my teeth.”

Louis’ eyes widened, his head pulling back.

“Hello there,” he laughed. “Your teeth, hm?”

A group of chefs came up to Harry before he could answer. Louis recognized one as the ginger bearded man who pointed at Harry when they first joined cocktail hour, who enthusiastically congratulated Harry on his awards.

What started as a few people congratulating Harry turned into them being goaded onto the dance floor, guests and celebrity chefs alike getting down to remixes of pop hits and party classics.

Harry found Louis in the crowd and pulled him into him with both hands, Louis laughing and wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. Their bodies jostled together, people jumping to Daft Punk’s Get Lucky.

Harry shouted, “How do you feel about making an exit?”

“You’ve had enough, rock star?” Louis shouted over the pounding music.

“I think so,” Harry laughed, his voice wrecked. The crowd was so full around them that he slid his hand to Louis’ arse, squeezing once. “Wanna get you home.”

Louis’ eyes sparkled, his fingertips ghosting over Harry’s fly. 

“Sounds good.”

They separated themselves from the crowd. Most of the celebrity chefs were on their way out, the models and actors who had attended the evening slipping out of side exits to avoid roaming photographers. 

As they exited the hotel, they ran into Helena and Henri on the steps. There was a large queue for taxis, a steady stream of black town cars pulling up to the hotel. You could still hear the party going on inside, stray spotlights beaming out the windows.

When they reached the front of the line, the taxi attendant said, “This’ll be the last one for a few minutes,” as a black car pulled up to the curb.

Helena and Henri looked to Louis and Harry.

“Go ahead, loves,” she said, holding her hands out. “You take it.”

“No, no. You two can take this one,” Louis said, opening the back door. Harry walked with Henri to the other side of the car. “We’ll wait.”

“You’re sure?” Helena asked, sitting on the leather seat. She cupped Louis’ cheek. “We can wait for the next one.”

“Nah. Get home safe,” Harry said, opening Henri’s door. “We’ll wait.”

Harry could hear Helena and Louis speaking quietly to each other as Henri buckled his seatbelt. 

“I’ll work tomorrow,” Henri said with a warm smile. “You sleep in.”

Harry’s eyes widened.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do that. That’s a lot of work. I’m supposed to be off Sunday, as well. Is that still alright?”

“I’m sure. You prepped everything already. Let me take care of this weekend. Elliot could use the practice.” His smile went sly, his finger prodding Harry’s two medals. “You can polish these the next couple of days.”

Harry laughed and hugged him, Henri’s suit jacket scented like powdered sugar. He ran around the back of the car as Louis stepped away from the open door.

“Thank you so much for coming tonight.” Harry leaned inside and pressed his lips to Helena’s cheek, Helena laughing and hugging him around his neck. “And for everything. For being the most amazing mentor I could ask for.”

“Oh, Harry, you’re making me blush,” she said, petting his hair. Her voice was wet to sigh out, “Mon amour,” and hug him tighter. “I’m so proud of you.” She kissed his temple. “So, so proud.”

Louis and Harry waved at Helena and Henri’s cab as it pulled away from the curb.

“Should only be a few moments,” the attendant said to them. “I apologize for the delay. We’re swamped tonight.”

“No worries,” Harry said. “We can wait.”

They stepped closer to the hotel. Both exhaled in unison, their breath breaking into laughter. Louis turned towards Harry, his hands in his pockets.

“This was a crazy night.”

“It was,” Harry nodded, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s like…” His eyes blinked wider, his head shaking slightly. “I can’t believe it. So many people and chats.” He reached into his pocket. “I ran out of cards.”

He opened his leather business card holder and showed it to Louis.

“Good man.” Louis noted that one side of the case held a thick stack of other people’s business cards. He grinned at Harry. “Network that sweet little arse off.”

Harry chuckled and pocketed the case, both men growing silent. Their eyes glanced at each other, then looked away, their smiles bashful. Louis scuffed his shoe over the cement, Harry rolling up on the balls of his feet, quiet laughs exhaled together.

“I love [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ajp0Uaw4rqo),” Harry said, almost to himself.

The sound swelled in and out due to the doors opening and closing each time a guest exited the building. Louis listened for a few seconds, willing his heart rate to return to normal. Harry’s acceptance speech echoed in his ears, sweet French words dripping like melted chocolate along the back of his brain.

“Is this UB40?”

“It is,” Harry said, rolling up on the balls of his feet. “Originally an Elvis hit, but I’m pretty fond of this version.”

“Of course. It’s the 90s R&B version of I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You. You were made to love this song.”

Harry chuckled, his head swaying to the beat. His swaying faltered for two beats, Louis’ fingers brushing over his knuckles. Harry said nothing for a moment as his smile grew, their fingers linking.

Louis smiled at him, ducking his gaze down to his shoes. He looked up through his eyelashes, his small smile lopsided.

“Want to dance? It’s such a lovely song.” 

Harry’s mouth gaped open, but his fingers laced between Louis’ fingers, their palms lined up to squeeze. They turned towards each other, both of their hands linked at hip level. 

People in formal evening attire teetered past them, tipsy from the awards reception. Cars whizzed in the background amongst the sound of people calling out to each other, all of the city noises accompanied by the random snippets of UB40 that came out of the venue’s door.

“I’d love to.” 

Trumpets introduced the first verse and Harry lowered his face, Louis lifting himself up on tiptoe and their lips opening together. Louis’ right hand flattened on the back of Harry’s neck, his fingers lightly stroking the base of his scalp. Harry sighed, tilting his head just so and pressing his lips harder, prompting Louis to whimper through his nose, dueling zips of heat racing up and down their spines. 

They kissed again as they swayed to every other beat of the mid-tempo song, Harry’s tongue licking into Louis’ mouth, the tang of champagne fresh on both of their palates. Their foreheads pressed together, Louis rubbing his nose against Harry’s.

Harry exhaled shakily and murmured what he thought was, “So sweet of you to want to dance.” 

He couldn’t be too sure of what he was saying with soft eyes the colour of the sea crinkling up at him, nimble fingers teasing the curlier bits of his hair. Harry surged forward for another firm press of Louis’ lips, always so confident and sure. 

Harry’s mouth moved with drunken lethargy as the words, “You taste amazing,” came out, his tongue licking over his own lips. 

Louis let his arms drape over Harry’s shoulders, Harry’s hands settling in the small of his back.

“We’re dancing in more clothes than usual, but I have faith we can make it work.”

Harry smiled and pressed his face against Louis’ neck. His skin smelled even more delicious than when they left his flat hours before, the spiciness of his sweat mixing with his lingering cologne and the warm, musk of his natural scent. 

Louis started to hum along to the music, the sound so quiet Harry could not tell if Louis was aware he was doing it. 

“I’ll fill in the blanks for you,” Louis whispered, his hums vibrating in Harry’s hair.

Harry’s eyes clenched shut, his throat suddenly swollen, words bursting to get out. He tightened his hold on Louis, pressing firm kisses over the arch of his neck. This night was turning into such a magic filled few hours that he was unsure if he was actually awake or dreaming.

“Actually,” Louis said, stepping back. Harry’s eyes widened, his face fallen. Louis held one finger up. “Back in a moment.”

Harry watched Louis jog up the steps of the hotel. He stopped at the top and said something to the event planner stationed at the door. He bent his head towards the bottom of the steps while still talking, his hand reaching in his back pocket. His wallet came out, Louis slipping a few bills into the planner’s hand. She smirked at him and nodded, pressing on the side of her headset and saying something into the microphone. 

All the guards opened the doors in unison as trumpets blared, UB40 loudly echoing around the bustling hotel front. Louis ran down the stairs, Harry standing stunned at the bottom, his arms limp at his sides and his jaw practically on the ground. 

Louis stood on the last step, only slightly out of breath, and held his hand out as the song asked for Harry to take his hand.

“Shall we?”

“Now this is officially like a film,” Harry said, lacing their fingers together. 

He tugged him down the final step. Louis landed against Harry, both dissolving into giddy laughter. Harry lifted their joined hands and kissed Louis’ knuckles, Louis smiling warmly and letting his hand mould to Harry’s face, music booming around them. 

Out of their peripheral vision they could see other couples joining in their impromptu slow dance at the top of the steps. Their eyes were only for each other, both assuming a proper dance position with Harry’s hands clasped behind Louis’ neck, Louis’ arms resting around Harry’s lower back.

“I really did time that well.”

“Yes,” Harry said, chuckling. “You really did. A part of me wonders if you choreographed this whole thing.”

“You’re onto my genius plan. Me, Gordon, and Jacques got together last night to plan this entire night. You’ll turn back into a pumpkin by dawn. Or maybe an actual sugar plum.” 

Harry started to giggle, his face pressing into the top of Louis’ hair, Louis smiling and swaying him to the music, his nose nuzzling Harry’s neck. 

Louis spun them, asking, “Do you think this will make the L Mix?”

“How do you know it’s not already on there?”

Louis’ eyes fluttered open, the motion causing his eyelashes to tickle over the arch of Harry’s neck. Harry shuddered in his arms, lips pressing firmly to his temple. He kept his arms around Harry’s waist and his posture the same. His body continued to sway to the beat for one, two, three sways before his nose dragged over Harry’s sweet skin.

Louis lifted his head and brought them face to face. His eyes dropped to Harry’s lips, slowly scanning back to his eyes. His arm tightened just enough around Harry’s waist to pull him closer, their warm breath mingling between them.

“Is that so,” Louis stated.

Harry happily sighed, “Yup,” stroking through the strands of hair at the base of Louis’ neck.

Louis’ smirk slowly grew into a smile, his face turning away for a split second to laugh. He looked back to Harry, their eyes shimmering beneath the warm hued street lights.

“Lots of love songs on the L Mix?”

“Almost exclusively,” Harry answered without missing a beat, both of their smiles growing. 

Harry flattened his right hand on the back of Louis’ neck, tilting his head and sealing their lips together. Louis hummed into the kiss, the sway of his head mirroring the easy motions of Harry’s lips. 

They broke apart, Louis sliding his hands over Harry’s shoulders, Harry’s hands flat on his lower back. Louis scratched the back of his scalp, tilting his face up for a soft brush of their lips.

“Almost exclusively love songs?” Louis asked, faux-bored. “What happened to the playlist being all loud lyrics? Here I was thinking it was a mega-mix of aggressive rock.”

Harry started to smile, but it was as if he couldn’t let his lips widen too much without stinging heat pushing behind his eyes. He rubbed Louis’ back and swallowed, his throat throbbing.

“Yeah, about that…” Harry’s mouth curved higher on the left side. “The mix started as...” He gulped in air with a wobbly smile, his eyes starting to shine. “It sort of…Changed.” His voice cracked, Louis’ equally shining eyes curving. Louis smiled and brought his right hand to Harry’s cheek. “Pretty early on, actually.”

“Changed,” Louis stated.

He and Harry nodded at each other, smiling as if they were privy to a secret from the entire world. Their bodies moved closer, no light visible between their chests, each of their breaths felt together. 

“Yeah. Like…” 

Harry leaned into Louis’ touch, Louis’ other hand warm on his waist. His wet eyes lit up, a small gasp coming from behind his open-mouthed smile. 

“...Like a flower blooming in a garden that we watered.” 

Louis’ voice joined with Harry’s to recite, “With semen and sweat,” together.

They both shuddered silent laughter, nothing but warm puffs of air brushing over each other’s lips. Harry exhaled as Louis inhaled, his sweet breath sucked down Louis’ windpipe to rest in his lungs. Every person or sound around them faded into the background, their hearts pounding in unison against each other’s chest. 

Louis’ thumb smoothed over Harry’s cheekbone, their warm eyes locked. He lifted himself up on the balls of his feet, his fingers gliding through Harry’s hair. He sealed their lips together, air-tight and claiming, Harry’s lungs expanding to swallow a breath from out of Louis’ mouth.

“Harry,” Louis said, his voice nothing more than a wisp of air. He pressed a softer kiss to his lips, murmuring, “Harry,” and bringing both hands to Harry’s face.

Harry hummed, lowering his face to follow his lips. He kissed him as they swayed to the music, his arms looped around Louis’ lower back. Louis smile into the kiss until his lips trembled, a muffled chuckle vibrating into Harry’s mouth. Harry snuffled air out of his nose, their lips slipping apart.

He shifted his head back enough to smile down at Louis, his eyes glazed and his face flushed.

“What?” Harry asked, smiling wider.

“I love you.”

Louis’ warm, lilting voice flowed over Harry’s body, sinking into the core of his bones and dulling his mouth like novocaine. His mouth trembled open and his breath caught in his throat, as if he was waiting for Louis to blow air back into his lungs.

Louis stroked the shell of Harry’s ear, smiling wider. 

“Harry, I love you so--” A hiccup in breathing broke through his calm exterior, his eyes squinting ever so slightly as if he felt a touch of pain. He smiled through it, his lower eyelids damp. “I love you so,” he swallowed, his small shoulders hitching, “so much.”

“I love you, Louis.”

Louis’ smile broke into a throaty laugh, his eyes crinkled.

“You sure about that?”

Harry’s face went frantic.

“Of course, I love you!” 

Louis laughed harder, his cheeks flushed bright red.

“You said it like a question.”

Harry kissed Louis’ right cheek, then his left, ending by planting a loud kiss to his smiling lips. He flattened his hand on the side of Louis’ neck, his other hand tucked up under the back of Louis’ jacket.

“I always figured I’d be the one to say it first,” Harry admitted, out of breath, his eyes drinking in Louis’ warm, smiling face. “To tell you I love you. I practiced it as me saying,” he tilted his head and swayed them right, “‘I love you, Louis.’ Then hoped you would say,” he tilted his head and let his voice rise slightly in pitch, swaying them left, “‘I love you, too, Harry,’ back to me.”

Louis’ nose wrinkled as he laughed.

“What was that voice?”

Harry smiled innocently.

“What voice?”

“Well,” Louis dipped him then pulled him back up into his body, Harry cackling happily, “technically, you did sort of say it first.” He pecked Harry’s lips, murmuring, “Mon amour.”

Harry’s cheeks heated, Louis twirling him in place with their hands joined above his head. His feet behaved and kept his motions smooth, music and smiling faces whirling as he spun. His graceful feet must have been directly related to the sheen of movie magic glitter that coated the entire evening.

“Did you like that?” Harry asked, his hair falling in his eyes. “My speech?”

“Like it?” Louis laughed, his brows high. “I loved it. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. This whole night has been heaven.” He smoothed Harry’s hair back, standing on tiptoe to kiss him. “I didn’t expect you to mention me at all. Maybe my hair, but not me.”

Their lips opened together, Louis’ arm tightening around Harry’s lower back, Harry’s right foot popping up off the ground.

“My muse.” Harry kissed Louis’ cheek. “My love.” He dipped Louis, pulling him up into his body. “Of course I had to mention you.”

Louis giggled uncontrollably, his eyes floating up to the starlit sky. His head felt filled to the brim with fresh cotton candy, and he was certain his eyes were no longer blue but a bright pink.

“You old romantic. Calling me your muse,” Louis teased playfully, his voice bubbling with unsung laughter. “When we live together, am I going to have to sit for you to paint oil portraits of me in the morning? Will I have to bring you tea every evening while you compose symphonies in my name?”

Harry grinned. Though Louis teased, the breathy tone of his words made it clear how pleased he was. Some of Harry’s brain cells started to fire again.

“Gordon Ramsay is in your version of heaven?”

Louis’ eyebrows arched.

“You practiced telling me you loved me? Why didn’t you just say it?”

“Not, like, aloud,” Harry stuttered, his brain cells rendered useless yet again by Louis’ fond-soaked smirk. “Well,” his lips quirked, “maybe once in the shower.” He made a wincing motion and widened his eyes. “Niall was very confused.”

Louis pulled Harry’s face lower and smashed their lips together, both laughing wetly into the kiss. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Harry said, kissing Louis for each declaration. He pressed his face into Louis’ neck, arms tightening around him in a crushing hug. He shuddered in Louis’ arms, whispering, “I’ve loved you for so long.” 

Louis eyes fell shut, his hand clenching in the back of Harry’s hair. He smiled at the stars and blinked rapidly, swallowing a pesky lump lodged in the bottom of his throat.

“Me, too. Ugh.” Louis exhaled heavily, jostling Harry. “This will make my life so much easier. It’s been such a strain not to call you love. Nearly gave myself a stroke a few times.”

Harry’s scrunched face popped up.

“You call the baristas in Costa love.”

“Yeah, but I don’t love them the way I,” he smiled crookedly, “love you.”

Harry lowered his head to tuck his face into Louis’ neck, exhaling a laugh. Louis smoothed his hand down the centre of Harry’s back, swaying him gently to the music. 

The song had changed to Peter Frampton’s [Baby I Love Your Way](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m0nc-hh9viQ). Their dance motions slowed to more of an involuntary bob, their bodies glued together.

“I love you,” Harry whispered in Louis’ ear, able to tell Louis was smiling from the tiny shiver of his body. Harry held him tighter, able to hear Louis’ whispered answer of, “I love you.”

“Get a room, you two!” was shouted from somewhere. 

The gruff voice sounded very familiar. They both stood up straighter, Louis peering over Harry’s shoulder.

“Oh God,” Louis whispered, laughing. He rubbed his hands over his face, his cheeks burning. “My boss is insane.”

Harry turned around and saw Simon Cowell and Gordon Ramsay hanging out of a window near the top of the hotel building, their ties loose and shirts partially unbuttoned, cigars puffing out of their mouths. Simon pinched his cigar and put his fingers in his mouth, his whistle cutting through the air. A hotel attendant pulled them back into the building, the window snapping shut.

“Ahem.”

They turned around, meeting the amused gaze of the taxi attendant. He held his arm towards the street.

“Your car has been here for a few minutes, sirs, but I felt it rude to interrupt what appeared to be a rather important moment.”

They both smiled and separated, their hands linked between them. They stepped up to the car. Harry reached into his pocket before shaking the attendant’s hand.

“Thank you for your patience.” He slipped him a bill. “It’s much appreciated.”

They got into the black town car, Louis first, followed by Harry. The attendant shut the door and tapped on the roof, the car lulling to life. 

The driver smiled at them in the mirror, a black cap perched on his salt and pepper crew-cut.

“Where to, gents?”

They looked at each other.

“Um,” Harry hummed, biting his bottom lip. “Yours or mine?”

“Actually,” Louis checked his watch, “how do you feel about a nightcap?” He smiled at Harry, shrugging his right shoulder. “A quick one.”

Harry chuckled, squeezing his knee.

“You didn’t drink enough in there?”

“No, no, it was great. I just figured we could unwind somewhere before we head home.”

Harry’s confusion registered in the wrinkles on his forehead, but he smiled and rubbed Louis’ hand, nodding once.

“Sure. Whatever you want. Where to?”

“I’m kind of in the mood for a cocktail. Want some lime and salt.” Louis’ eyes flashed with heat, his tongue tracing over the inside of his bottom lip. “Am craving a bit of tequila before bedtime. Maybe a shot, too. Just to, you know,” the corner of his mouth quirked, “push me over the edge.”

Harry held eye contact for one long second. He swallowed dryly and nodded, turning to the driver.

“Do you know where Chandelier is?” he asked, polite and controlled. “It’s a bar.”

“Certainly,” the driver nodded, smiling. “Will be there shortly.”

The partition went up and Harry sat back in his seat. He sank into the buttery leather seat. The car’s engine purred, sending vibrations through the backs of his thighs and arse. It felt as if all the alcohol and excitement of the night caught up to him at once, settling in a deep throb of heat teasing his lower belly.

Harry rolled his head along the back of the seat, watching Louis pocket his iPhone. Louis felt eyes on him and smiled before mirroring his position, both staring at each other as the car bumped. 

The red of a traffic light beamed into the car. Louis spread his legs wider, his outer thigh pressing against Harry’s, their eyes still locked. The engine revved, their breaths growing choppier, Harry’s throat visibly bobbing.

The light turned green.

Harry lunged as Louis pounced on him, Harry’s arm looping around Louis’ lower back to haul him into his lap. Louis hugged him with his thighs, his hands gripping Harry’s hair, their mouths roughly biting together. 

“Fuck,” Louis exhaled, pulling Harry’s hair. Their teeth clashed on their next kiss, Harry growling and biting Louis’ bottom lip. “Been dying for this all night.”

Harry’s hand slid up the back of Louis’ dress shirt, pulling roughly to untuck it from his trousers. His fingers scratched below his waistband, palming a handful of his bare arse.

“Wanna fuck you so badly.”

“Here?”

“Everywhere.”

Louis ground down into him, guiding him into another hissed, slow, tongue-heavy kiss. His whole body felt hot, the back seat of the car even hotter, Harry’s hands gliding easily underneath the bottom of his shirt. 

“You’ve been so good to me these last few weeks,” Harry murmured between kisses. He dragged his nose up Louis’ neck, the heady scent of their sweat mixing in his nostrils. “Taking care of me when I was stressed.” He breathed deeply beneath his ear, Louis’ eyes popping wider open. “Being patient when I was tired.”

Louis gripped his face and guided him into a kiss, panted against his lips before Harry’s mouth pressed to his again, both inhaling audibly through their noses. Harry’s tongue surged into his mouth, his saliva champagne and sugar sweet, Louis grinding his pelvis against Harry’s crotch. 

“I wanted to help,” Louis breathed, tilting his head just before Harry’s tongue was back in his mouth. “To make you happy.”

“Fuck yes, you helped.” 

Harry hugged him with both arms, attaching his mouth to Louis’ neck. He bit and sucked hard enough to break the skin, tonguing over the bulge of tender skin pinched between his teeth. Louis’ hips stuttered against his groin, a high whine muffled by biting on his own hand. Harry grunted and pushed his hand out of his mouth. 

He bit the spot again, harder, Louis wailing, “Fuck, baby,” and letting his head drop, sharp heat rising to meet each of Harry’s sucks.

“Perfect skin, perfect lips,” Harry drawled, ghosting his hand over Louis’ cock, “perfect heart.” He shifted Louis closer in his lap, searing their lips together. “Taking such good care of me. But tonight, I’m not tired anymore,” Harry squeezed his arse hard with both of his hands, “and I’m gonna put my mouth on every part of you. Every inch.”

Louis groaned and held onto Harry’s tighter, each bump of the road making their groins grind together. He mouthed at Harry’s neck, pulling on the back of his hair hard enough for Harry’s cock to twitch in his pants.

Harry’s voice lowly rambled, “Fuck, Lou. Every fucking inch. Been dreaming of sucking you off for hours.” He unzipped Louis’ trousers. “Sucking you ‘til you’re soft and then starting all over again, fuck me,” he said, gruffer, “wanna suck you right now. Right fucking now.” 

He landed an open palmed slap on the meatiest part of Louis’ arse, Louis shivering in his arms. 

“Want you face down for a whole day. God, I wanna fucking taste you. Gonna fuck you with my tongue until you beg until you beg for my cock. Wanna hear you beg. And then I’m gonna give it to you, gonna give you whatever you want, and eat you all over again. Whatever you fucking want. Anything to get you to come.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Louis gasped, bumping his head on the roof. He gulped and attempted to focus his eyes, but that only led to him seeing Harry’s face so beautiful and blown out, his hair wild and eyes glowing molten green, his dark rose lips swollen. “All this talk from you.”

“I’m a bit drunk.”

“Even when you drunk dirty talk you’re the most considerate--Umph--” 

Louis moaned against Harry’s lips, able to smell his sweet sweat on the strands of hair tickling his face.

“S’working?” Harry asked, pushing Louis’ back against the door of the car.

“Yes,” Louis shuddered involuntarily. “I mean, uh,” he flattened his hand on the ceiling and groaned, Harry massaging him through his trousers, “we, uh, should stop before the driver hears.”

“We should make use of this car having a partition. Fuck.” Harry slid his nose underneath Louis’ jacket, pressing it under Louis’ raised arm. “You smell so fucking good. Take off your jacket. Everything. Take it off.”

Harry’s easy counter offer and wandering hands made Louis’ eyes cross. He stared, baffled, at the face of his watch, Harry bending his head down to bite at the knot of Louis’ tie. He throbbed in his trousers, Harry’s cock a hot, hard line against his inner thigh.

“Wanna fuck you. Want you to fuck me tonight.” Harry gripped his crotch, his large hand massaging Louis’ cock through his thin trousers. “I just want to fucking feel you, you know? Wanna fucking feel the man I love inside me. Feel that tight,” he spanked him again, “perfect arse of yours. Jesus fuck.”

“Oh my God,” Louis said, his voice airy. He opened his mouth to say something else, but he froze, Harry growling sucks on the skin to the right of his Adam’s apple. Louis tilted his head back and shut his eyes, moaning openly, his hips starting to gyrate. “Fuck. Lemme just--”  
His fingers fumbled with his belt. “Just a--”

“Fuck yes,” Harry replied, sounding out of breath. He pulled at Louis’ belt. “Fuck me, ‘m gonna fucking feast on your arse. Want you to smother me.”

The car came to a halt.

“Ah, shit, we’re here,” Louis panted out. He threw himself onto his corner of the seat, Harry’s long limbs spread across the opposite corner. “We’re…” He swallowed, his voice weak to state, “here.”

Harry fixed his eyes on Louis’ face, his chest heaving beneath his shirt.

“One drink. Then we’re going home and I’m going to wreck you. I don’t care if Liam, Zayn, and Niall sit in the room and watch.”

Louis’ jawline flickered.

“Well, then.” He adjusted his belt. “Sounds like you’ve got the rest of our evening figured out.”

Harry’s hunger simmered, his smile shy. He pressed his hand to his fly, exhaling a breath.

“We can also make love a few hundred times.”

The driver opened the door from outside. Louis’ eyebrows arched, his legs like jelly as he brought himself upright on the street.

“A few hundred? Wow.” Louis held his hand out, using his other hand to tuck in the back of his shirt. “We’ll be busy this weekend. Busy and sore.”

Harry grinned and reached out, squeezing Louis’ hand to pull himself out of the car.

They walked into Chandelier together. They could only walk so far inside before running into a wall of well-dressed bodies. Though the awards event seemed to go on forever, it was only half ten. The night had just begun for most of Chandelier’s patrons.

The lights were dim save for the shimmering crystals chandeliers dotting the high ceilings, candles glowing on each of the dark wood tables. The bar line spilled into the space around the plush booths that bordered the dance floor. It was packed, though the layout and energy of Chandelier kept everyone calm. 

“Wow, crazy crowd. This place is getting really popular,” Harry said, squeezing Louis’ hand. “Want me to get us drinks?”

Louis looped his arm around the small of Harry’s back and guided him sideways, bypassing the dance floor crowd. Mellow electronic music throbbed through the sound system at the perfect volume, loud enough to be heard but demure enough to allow easy conversation.

“Let’s see about getting a booth first,” Louis said. “We can hit the bar after.”

“Good idea. Hey, why’s Malcolm giving us a thumbs up?” Harry asked, jutting his chin toward the bar. “Do you see him? He’s the blond.”

Louis’ eyes slid to the bar. He recognized Malcolm, another one of Harry and Niall’s former houseguests, from his shock of platinum blond hair. Malcolm waved wildly at them with one hand, using his other hand to give them a bobbing thumbs up.

“Maybe he heard about the awards?” Louis asked, squeezing Harry tighter to his side. “Niall must have told him. I texted the guys to let them know.”

“Hm. That’s funny.” Harry craned his neck towards the bar and mouthed, “Cheers, mate,” at Malcolm. “Oh, I should take my phone off Airplane Mode.” Harry lifted his hand to slide it into his left pocket. “I should see if my mum called.”

Louis placed his hand on top of Harry’s left hand, linking their fingers against Harry’s hip. Harry smiled and leaned against him, looping his right arm around Louis’ waist.

They reached a beaded curtain, gold tinged crystals running floor to ceiling across the span of the room. Louis pushed the curtain aside and nodded, Harry stepping inside. 

“Maybe there’s a seat in here,” Louis said, the beads clinking behind them.

The next space was darker, only one black leather booth on either side of the room. Both booths were taken up by small groups enjoying flutes of something pink and bubbly. 

Harry hummed and Louis walked them further into the room, the electronic music fading into the background.

They met another floor to ceiling curtain, this one made of clear, silvery crystals. The wall shimmered in front of them, light bouncing onto their faces. Louis pulled a few strands of beads apart to reveal pitch-black darkness on the other side.

Harry asked, “Isn’t this where they do private parties?” and Louis gave him a baffled look.

“Is it?”

The sound of a thick, velvet curtain swooshed behind them, taking away any light in the room. Louis held Harry’s hips with both hands and spun him, giving him a gentle shove forward. 

Harry sped up his steps and started to laugh over his shoulder, but was interrupted by the lights turning on at the same time as a crowd booming:

“Congratulations, Harry!”

Harry blinked at the room full of very familiar faces, his mouth gasping as wide open as physically possible with his hand clutching the centre of his chest.

“What--What--”

Laughter and applause drowned out his clucked words, cameras flashing and mobile phones recording his stunned reaction. He registered warmth beside him, Louis rubbing his lower back, his quiet chuckles brushing over Harry’s neck.

“Congratulations, my love,” Louis whispered in his ear, the sound nearly lost amongst the excitement of the large group. The song [This Is How We Do It](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0hiUuL5uTKc) started up, the lights shifting to a more comfortable lounge setting. Louis’ voice ghosted over his jawline. “Have fun and find me when you’re ready.” Hot lips pressed below his ear, Louis’ hand tightening on his hip. “I’ll take care of you.”

“But,” Harry said to him, still gaping like a fish, his head trembling side to side. Louis’ eyes crinkled, his body moving away from Harry’s outstretched hand. “Louis--”

“Yeah, brother!” Niall shouted, pulling him into a hug. Harry’s body was surrounded by man-heat and mixed colognes, a flash of Ed’s red hair a signal he joined the friendship pile up. Niall hollered, “We fucking knew you could do it!”

Zayn and Liam jumped on top of them. Harry tried to make eye contact with each smiling person in the crowded room, familiar face after familiar face surging towards him. He recognized different bundle of his friends, but one in particular caught his eye. His mouth fell open again, his index finger pointing forward.

Ravi lifted his beer bottle towards Harry and winked cheekily, his girlfriend, Tonya, smiling and lifting her margarita on the rocks in cheers. She was a stunning black biologist, almost as tall as Ravi, tight ringlets of dark hair like a wide halo around her face. She shared Harry’s love of colourful headscarves and kicked his arse regularly in Words With Friends. 

“You! Ravi! How did you even get here so fast!?” Harry laughed at Ravi over the noise. Ravi threw his head back to laugh, the muscles of his neck flexing above his tight black henley, his high bun bobbing. “How is that possible?”

Ravi moved left and flexed his muscled arm to the side, revealing Helena and Henri leaning against the private bar. Harry’s mouth dropped wider open, Helena smirking and wiggling her fingers at him. 

He shouted, “How did you two get here so fast!?” and waved at Helena. She gave him a guilty smile and flexed her palms near her face, wiggling her fingers. Quieter, he pondered aloud into Zayn’s coconut-scented hair, “How did any of this happen? How long was everyone in on it?”

“Ask your boyfriend,” Zayn said, planting a wet kiss on Harry’s forehead. “I can’t even talk about how many bloody email updates there were to this secret event.”

“He’s exaggerating,” Liam said, rubbing his hand on top of Zayn’s sculpted quiff. Zayn gasped and cradled his hair. Liam grinned at Harry, squeezing the top of his shoulder. “This was the most pain free surprise party I’ve ever been a part of. The most fun, too.”

Niall’s voice whispered something to Ed, who whispered to Zayn, who gave Liam a look. They all looked at each other and nodded, then hugged Harry from every side. They started to spin him in place.

“What--What’s this for?” Harry asked, laughing and out of breath. “Is there a--Is there a pinata?”

The crystal curtain tinkled in the background. As he spun, he could see more people coming into the room, Louis’ body shielding two other female shapes before they were swallowed by the crowd.

Then the spinning stopped, the boys all releasing him with innocent smiles. Harry’s brows pinched together, another confused chuckle falling from his lips.

“What was that for?”

He heard a feminine, gentle laugh amongst the sound of people chatting. The sound pinged from his ears to his brain and his head popped up. His eyes located the source of laughter at the same time as his lungs pushing out a high-pitched: 

“Oh my God!”

He ran straight ahead and barrelled into his mother and sister, their arms linking around his upper back, his face pressed between both of their heads. They took turns kissing his cheeks, Harry bubbling out a wet, snuffled sound.

“Mum,” he whispered, burying his face in her long, chestnut hair. He breathed in her soothing lavender perfume before turning his head to the other side to laugh, “Gems!”

“Oh, sweetheart. We’re so, so proud of you,” Anne said, moisture dampening Harry’s cheekbone. Harry wasn’t sure if they were his or his mother’s tears, but he clenched his eyes shut and pressed his face into her neck, sniffling once. “Congratulations.”

“You and Lou look like celebrities,” Gemma said, brushing a kiss to his cheekbone. Harry shifted his hug to squeeze her tighter, his arm still around his mum’s upper back. “Your suits are amazing. Great fits.”

“How is this possible!?” He squinted his stinging eyes and saw Gemma’s smiling face, her fingers running through the back of his hair. Harry blinked back his tears, smiling wide. “How are you two here? How did this happen?”

Anne kissed both of his cheeks and hugged him again.

“Louis set this all up,” Anne explained, pulling back. She kissed his forehead, cupping his face with her right hand. “He had the idea and planned it all. He asked for us to come and,” she gracefully pinched her fingers in the air, reminiscent of a fairy godmother holding her magic wand, “here we are!”

“He’s very organized,” Gemma said. She smirked, tugging one of Harry’s curls. “And endearingly sneaky when needed. He got the jump on you weeks ago. We had the plans finalized even before we officially met at our heiress day.”

Harry planted a messy kiss on Gemma’s cheek, Gemma pawing at him while laughing. He leaned back, his arm draped over her shoulder. He opened his mouth, then scrunched his brows. 

“I thought you were going to be in Rome this weekend? With that rock band?”

“Yeah, about that,” Gemma drawled, her smile growing. “Not so much. Tomorrow? Yes. Tonight? No.”

Harry’s smiling mouth fell open.

“What?”

“I made a slight detour. Mum and I had quite the adventure today.” 

Anne nodded, adding, “That’s why we were a bit late and Louis had to sneak us in. To surprise you at your surprise party.” She thumbed his cheekbone, the skin beside her eyes crinkling as she smiled. “Silly planes, trains, and automobiles."

"But totally worth it to see your face. I can’t wait to see the pictures from when you first walked in. I bet you made your electrified Bambi face.” Harry groaned and Gemma squeezed his nose. “We’re so proud of you.”

He glanced around the crowded party, searching desperately for Louis. 

Niall and Zayn waved at him from behind a table lifted a few inches off the ground. Both wore large headphones and neon pink sunglasses as they manned two laptops plugged into the sound system. Liam and Ed were gesturing wildly to a group of musician friends, his foodie friends taking over the private bar to help the staff while his other friends had started to dance in front of the DJ table.

He seemed to see all of his friends waving at him, everyone but the one person he wanted to see most.

“I can’t believe he did all this for me,” Harry whispered, blinking wide eyed at his mother. “This is crazy, right? What did I do to deserve this?”

Anne laughed, squeezing his cheeks with both hands.

“Crazy wonderful, love! And of course you deserve it!” Her eyes twinkled, her face transforming much too easily into Gemma’s knowing smirk; Gemma had to learn from someone. “You deserve the world, and Louis seems determined to give you the world plus a few galaxies for good luck.” 

Harry’s cheeks dimpled to grin, a hot flush settling over his entire body. 

“He’s a doll,” she said, her eyes shining. “An absolute…He’s...” She searched for her words for a moment, her shoulders trembling with unspoken happiness. She rubbed the centre of her own chest. “He has the biggest heart. You can just tell with someone like him.”

Harry nodded, croaking, “Yes.” His heart throbbed extra loud in his ears. “You are very right.”

“He volunteered to pay for our travel and accommodations for us to visit and come to your party,” Gemma said, elbowing Harry’s side. “He wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you.” 

Fresh tears sprung to Harry’s eyes, his throat bobbing.

“He is a doll,” he said, choosing his words carefully. He swallowed and smiled, his mother’s eyes warm and knowing. “I can’t believe this.”

“He put us up in the loveliest hotel down the road! It’s adorable.” Anne said, rubbing Harry’s outer arms. “I told him Gemma and I could share a room, but he insisted on giving us our space.”

“That sounds like him,” Harry said, smiling.

“I made our travel arrangements before he could,” Anne continued, scrunching her face defiantly, “so he couldn’t try to pay for it, but he beat me to the hotel, the little rascal. He works very fast.”

Harry barked out a throaty laugh.

“That definitely sounds like him.”

Anne smoothed her hands over his chest, smiling up at him.

“Would you like to have brunch together tomorrow morning? All four of us. Our hotel has a restaurant attached. I’ve read they have the best mimosas in town.”

“Sure, of course. Louis loves brunch.”

“Actually...” Gemma frowned, the white light of her iPhone illuminating her face. She looked up at her mother and brother, her large eyes sinking. “I think I’ll have to leave shortly after the party.”

“No sleepover?” Harry asked, pouting. Gemma pinched his mouth and he laughed, pushing her hand away. “Why not? You said you’d be here until tomorrow.” He clutched his right shoulder. “I’m wounded.”

“Yes, why the change?” Anne asked, pushing her bottom lip outwards. “Is there a problem at work?”

Gemma pocketed her phone, itching her fingers through the crown of her hair and groaning.

“No, no problem. It’s a change in my flight. The band is going to be on some interview show they weren’t aware of, blah, blah, blah.” She fanned her hand in the air, Harry and Anne exchanging amused smirks. “You know how picky I get about who touches my hems.” Her smile brightened. “Oh! But maybe you and Louis can take my room? He paid for it already.” She winked. “Might as well put it to good use.”

A waitress came up to them, offering a tray of small bites.

“Would anyone like--”

Gemma and Anne said, “Yes, please,” at the same time, reaching with both hands onto the tray. 

Harry watched them scarf down two deep-fried mac-and-cheese balls and two mini crab cakes. Anne gripped a napkin, dabbing the corner of her mouth.

“Our adventure included lots of travel but not a lot of food time,” she explained, swallowing afterwards. “Mmm,” she grabbed another crab cake, “these are amazing.”

“They really are. Try the spicy sauce,” Gemma said, shoved a miniature vegetable samosa in her mouth. She gave the tray a thumbs up. “Great choices on Lou’s part.”

Harry picked up a fried mac-and-cheese ball and smiled softly.

“He’s too much,” he murmured to himself, popping it into his mouth. “Mmm,” he hummed, nodding, “yum.”

“Am I?”

Harry spun around, his hand over his lips and his cheeks puffed out. Louis brushed his fingers over the top of his hand hanging against his thigh, the touch hidden from Anne and Gemma.

“I figured you’d be full from our meal, but you do tend to have an insatiable streak,” Louis said, his eyes shimmering. He dragged his fingers along Harry’s palm, squeezing the tip of his middle finger. His small, teasing touches made it very difficult for Harry to swallow his appetizer. “Are you having fun?”

“Fun?” Harry said, laughing. Louis smirked at him as he sipped his margarita on the rocks. “Um, that’s a mild understatement.” He lifted Louis’ hand and cradled it against his chest, pressing his lips along each of his knuckles. “I...” He pressed his nose to the top of Louis’ hand. “I don’t even know what to say.”

A voice prompted, “Say, ‘Thank you,’ for God’s sake.”

Louis’ eyes crinkled over Harry’s shoulder.

Harry fought a smile, saying, “Yeah, thanks, Gemma. I’ve got it.” He kissed the inside of Louis’ wrist. “Thank you.” He ducked his head down, the tip of his nose rubbing behind Louis’ ear. He whispered, “I love you,” his lips brushing ever so softly over Louis’ sensitive skin. 

Louis’ smile faded for a split second, his gaze unfocused and his mouth slackening. He tilted his head to rub their cheeks together.

“I love you so much,” he murmured, curling his palm around Harry’s hand. “And I’m so proud of you.”

Louis offered Harry his drink, Harry taking a long swig of margarita and licking his lips afterward. He stared at Louis, his tongue swiping over the salty corner of his mouth.

Harry drawled, “Will you model my medals for me later?” His eyes flickered with heat. Only my medals.”

Louis squeezed his hand, grinning.

“You’re lucky you’re sexy. It balances out that you’re as cheesy as the mac-and-cheese balls.”

Harry laughed and glanced around the room, guests happily eating the small bites and drinking colourful cocktails.

“Nice touch with those.”

“Thanks. Glad you approve.”

“Gemma’s leaving tonight,” Harry said, sipping Louis' drink again. He gave the salty rim a tiny kitten lick. “We can have her hotel room.”

Louis' eyes followed the motion, his expression slackening. 

“What?" He blinked rapidly and looked Harry straight on. "Why?”

“Yeah. She has to work.”

“Aw, sad,” Louis said, his face falling. "That's too bad."

“I know. Do you want to sleep at the hotel together, though?” Harry’s voice dropped to a lower purr, his body square to Louis. “Mini shampoo bottles. Fresh sheets.” He brushed their groins together. “No flatmates.”

Louis gripped his hand. He put on a calm smile and turned towards Gemma and Anne, who were occupied by a tray of prawn cocktail.

“I’m going to borrow him for a moment,” he said, sounding professional and poised, confident and easy. His thumb drew small circles around Harry’s knuckle, Harry swallowing thickly. “Is that alright?”

Anne nodded and gestured towards them with a prawn.

“Of course.” She smiled warmly, holding her hand over her mouth. “We’ll see you both later. Go mingle! Dance!”

“Lovely,” Louis smiled, gently squeezing Anne’s shoulder. “We’ll be around.”

Harry walked beside him without question as Louis led them through the crowd, both stopping every so often for hugs and congratulations from friends. They ended up on the opposite side of the room.

“Where are we going?” Harry asked.

Louis felt along the wall until he found a latch. He pulled, a door opening from the wall, and stepped forward with their hands clasped. Harry’s brows arched as he slipped inside, Louis shutting the door behind him. The door melted seamlessly into the black wall.

They were shrouded in complete darkness, their hot breaths brushing over each other’s mouths. The music booming outside the door sent vibrations into the cramped space, the voices of their guests competing to drown out the pounding R&B. 

Harry reached forward, his hands finding Louis’ waist. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, his gaze on the shining, curved line of Louis’ upper lip. Louis stepped into him, Harry’s back hitting the wall. 

“So,” Harry chuckled.

He watched Louis’ lips spread into a smile.

“So.”

“Is this a closet?” 

Louis draped his arms over Harry’s shoulders, his fingers linking on the back of Harry’s neck.

“It is. I saw it when I toured the private room.” 

Louis started to mouth at Harry’s neck, his fingers digging into the backs of his shoulders. The ticklish brushes of air over his sensitive skin made Harry shudder a laugh and arch his back. The noise was lost amongst the sound of their clothes shifting.

“I’m sorry if this is presumptuous,” Louis said between kisses, his moving lips prompting another shiver from Harry, “but I am literally dying to kiss you. Just a quick snog. Is that okay?” He pressed firmer kisses beneath his jawline, Harry’s sweet sweat stinging his nostrils. “There are so many people around. I don’t know when I’ll get you alone again, and I totally understand if you want to get back to your gues--”

Harry pressed his mouth hotly to Louis’ lips, the pressure of his kiss causing their lips to scrunch and spread open, their tongues sliding together. Their saliva was sticky and sweet, lime and salt tangy on Louis’ tongue. 

They held each other tighter, the heat of the closet almost unbearable. Louis groaned through his nose and pushed Harry harder against the wall, a broom clinking on the floor. Harry’s large hands flattened on Louis’ arse, their hips already gyrating to the vibrating beat.

The closet door opened a crack, music pouring inside.

“C’mere, babe. Look what I found,” Zayn’s voice whispered, pushing the door open further. “Fucking need you.”

Louis’ hand shot out to hold the door in place, their lips still connected.

“Excuse me, this space is occupied,” he said, sounding annoyed. The sliver of light gave his face more shape, his indigent huff making Harry snort into his neck. “Try the toilets.” 

Liam said, “Ah, sorry, mates! Carry on!” and pulled the door shut.

When they returned to the party, their lips were puffy, their eyes glazed over and their smiles soppy. They walked past the DJ setup, Ed standing at a laptop with his arm around Suzi and oversized headphones hanging from their ears.

The further they went into the room, the more people wanted to check in and chat. Louis made sure all of Harry’s good friends were accounted for on the guest list, while also keeping the party size fairly small and intimate. Every guest he invited was enthusiastic about attending the surprise party and supporting Harry, even if they were childhood friends who lived out of the city. Harry tended to inspire that sort of pure excitement in his friends. 

Even when moving separately, they gravitated towards each other. There was a pull as Harry did shots with his foodie friends at the bar and Louis chatted with some Simone friends across the room. There was a pull when Harry had a long chat with his mum and sister in one of the booths, Louis jumping up to the DJ table to join Zayn and Niall. There was a pull when they bobbed around the dance floor, both dancing with different groups of people. 

Each pull caused the throbbing want inside of them to build, their eyes constantly aware of where each other stood in the room, even when engaged in conversation with someone else.

They both went towards Ravi and Tonya at the same time to say hello. Without speaking, Harry wrapped his arm around Louis’ lower back, Louis pinching his arse before smoothing his hand over his bum.

At the DJ table, Niall pulled one of Zayn’s headphones off.

“I’m gonna get another drink. You want, DJ Zaynie-Zayn?”

Zayn laughed and shook his head to the music, holding up a fresh scotch.

“I’m good. Thanks, though.”

“Cool.”

Niall stepped down from the table and went to the bar. He got himself a beer and wandered around the party, laughing and chatting with friends. He saw Harry and Louis standing to the side of the dance floor with Ravi and sped up his steps. He hadn’t gotten to say hello to Ravi or Tonya yet.

“Hey,” Harry said happily, pulling Niall into a one-armed hug. Louis ruffled his hair, patting the centre of his chest. “Where have you been? We missed you. We were just talking about your playlist skills.”

“Ed was a terrible influence and we were occupied by shots for a bit.” Niall rubbed his stomach, sipping his beer. “Some cinnamon-y booze stuff. Then Zayn and I have been hard at work pretending to be DJs.”

“That Ed,” Ravi said, tutting his tongue. “Red devil.”

Niall laughed, his eyes crinkling closed. When he opened his eyes, he noticed that, beside Ravi and Tonya, there was another woman standing there, her soft smile sending tingles from the tips of his toes to the ends of his hair. 

Her almond shaped eyes, full lips, shoulder-length black waves, and caramel skin were an exact match for Ravi’s, though her violet tights and gray Chelsea boots did not match Ravi’s more laid back chef style.

“Oh, are you the playlist master?” Her hazel eyes washed over him like a spotlight. He stared at her glossy mouth as she formed words, his eyebrows arching higher and higher. “The music is amazing! You have great taste. You’re Niall, right?”

[Exotic, exciting strings started to play in his head ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i2d45tOgBl0), Niall unsure if the music was actually playing aloud or if trumpets were only going off inside his head. He registered her smile, the white blaze of her straight teeth opening wide enough to let out her melodic, loud laugh.

Niall’s mouth trembled open. He blinked at her.

“Gugh,” was his reply.

Louis and Harry’s eyes moved to each other, their faces remaining towards the group of friends and their lips twitching upwards.

“Ah. Sorry,” she laughed, slightly husky and still loud, placing her hand over her face, pretty pink settling high on her cheekbones. “I haven’t introduced myself.”

Niall noticed two rings on her long fingers (one round gem a shimmery gold, the other plastic ring a tiny blue elephant) and that her short nails were painted clear, save for a bright orange line at the end of each nail. 

“I’m Damini.” Her head tilted sideways, her thin, lime-green purse strap sliding low on her shoulder. She held her hand out, her other hand gripping a half-full pint glass. “Ravi’s sister.”

“I,” Niall said, his mouth gaped open. “I…” 

His eyes went from her lovely face to her legs, short and slightly thicker than her petite upper body. Her violet tights were the most popular colour of his dreams. The rainbow of wild flowers on her black skater dress made him think of frolicking through fields and springtime day drinking. 

He looked back to her face and was hit by the warmth of her eyes, her makeup causing the hazel colour to glow amber. 

He gasped out, “I...I…”

Tonya muffled a laugh in her wine glass. Ravi rolled his eyes, a smile threatening to spread across his handsome face. Louis and Harry raised their eyebrows at him. Niall stared slack-jawed at all of them, his face lost. 

Louis tilted his forehead forward, Harry mouthing, “Say hello,” to him, both smiling wider.

“That’s...That’s a beautiful name,” Niall finally said to her, taking her offered hand and looking directly at her. “Niall. I’m Niall. Yes. Hi. You’re,” he gestured at her, “Damini. Damini? Am I saying that right?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding and smiling. “Very good.”

“I’m Niall, you’re Damini, and I’m--” She squeezed his hand, Niall’s face breaking into a bright smile. “Wow, you’ve got some handshake on you.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, releasing his hand. “I’m a cellist. Well,” she tilted her head side to side, “kind of. Accountant by day, cellist by night.”

“That’s so hot,” Niall blurted out, his eyes bulging immediately. Damini burst out laughing. “Shit. Uh, I mean--” 

His eyes darted to Ravi, the muscled butcher not as amused as his sister. It was like being stared down by Khal Drogo, only with the knowledge that Khal Drogo had a meat locker at his disposal.

“I meant to say, uh--Oh!” Niall swiped the back of his hand over his forehead, fanning himself. “Isn’t it hot in here?” He pulled his tee away from his chest. “Wow, Lou. You should have gotten a space with better circulation. It’s sweltering.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Louis said, nodding and scrunching his brows together. “Totally.” With his smiling face still towards the group, he whispered through his teeth to Harry, “What is going on?”

Harry hid his smile with his glass.

“Not really,” Ravi said, his tone clipped. Tonya bopped his bun and whispered something in his ear. His features softened, his smile bashful. He sighed, his burly chest sinking to a more normal posture. “Niall is Harry’s flatmate, Mini. You remember--”

“Right, thanks,” she said simply, stepping in front of Ravi and Tonya to move closer to Niall. “So. Niall.” Her smile grew, the other members of their group chatting amongst themselves. “You’re Irish. You’re Harry’s flatmate. And you’re sweltering.”

“Yes! Yes, I am. I am both Harry’s flatmate and Irish. And,” he glanced at Ravi, who smirked at him, and squeaked, “sweltering.”

She laughed again, softer, and nodded.

“I’ve traveled a lot through Ireland, actually. I love it there.”

“Do you?”

“I do. One of my best friends is from Kinnegad, so I’ve been there a few times.”

“Kinnegad?” Niall asked, shocked. He grinned wildly and touched his chest. “That’s--That’s near me! Well, near Mullingar. Where I’m from.”

“Mullingar, Mullingar,” she mused, pursing her lips to the left. “Ah!” Her eyes flashed. “The Old Stand?”

Niall’s eyes blinked three times, his gaze growing wider with each blink.

“Um, y-yeah! That’s...That’s a good pub. In Mullingar. Where I’m from.” 

“Yes,” she said, her lips twitching. “We’ve established that.”

His face scrunched in disbelief. 

“You’ve...You’ve actually been there?”

“No, I’m a psychic.”

Niall’s mouth rounded.

“Oh,” he said, hushed. His gaze grew serious. “Do you hear animals? Or are you an exclusively human souls sort of psychic?”

Her pursed lips wobbled until she cracked up, her head thrown back.

“You’re funny,” she laughed, clinking her glass to his. He laughed along with her, lifting the neckline of his tee over his face. Her laughter quieted, her voice softer. “For the record,” she pulled the material away from his nose, his round blue eyes glued to her face, “if I was actually a psychic, I’d hope I could talk to human and animal souls. I wouldn’t discriminate. I love all animals. Elephants the most, though, followed by dogs in a close second.”

Niall watched her drink her Guinness, his jaw slackened and his shirt caught up on his stomach. When she stopped drinking, she stared at him. Her smile quirked, her eyes shimmering beneath her long lashes. He tried to remember how many seconds he’d been staring before he was caught, his mouth moving like a fish. 

“Your...Your name is so cool,” he eventually said, his eyes brightening at the sound of his own own voice. Words. Progress. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thanks!” She smoothed his shirt down his stomach. “That’s sweet of you to say.”

“I’ve never heard it before.”

“Really? I’ve met a couple Daminis in my day.”

“What does it mean?”

She made a deep, lazer sound and scrunched her fingers in the air.

“Lightning.”

Niall’s body went completely motionless. 

“Your name...” He swallowed dryly, his pint glass sweaty in his hand. “Your name is Lightning?”

“Yep. Damini Gita. Lightning Song.”

“Lightning Song,” Niall repeated, nodding. “Your name means Lightning Song.”

He looked to Louis and Harry, who were peeking at him and smiling. Their heads bobbed in unison for two tiny nods. Louis’ eyes especially were glittering, Niall’s insides exploding like a volcano filled with neon sparkle paint. 

He directed his attention back to Damini, offering her a warm smile.

“Can I get you a drink? I suddenly have an urge to make a Lightning Song cocktail. You’re my inspiration.”

Her face flushed with pleasure.

“Yes! I mean, um,” she glanced at her half full pint and held up one finger, “one second.”

She brought the glass to her lips and tilted her head back, Niall watching her throat bob as she finished it in three gulps. She smiled at him and dabbed her lips with the back of her hand. She wiggled the empty glass.

“Looks like I need that drink right about now.”

They shared wide, enthusiastic smiles, gravitating closer to each other. 

“Right,” Niall chuckled, stepping back. “The, um,” he used both thumbs to point over his shoulder, “bar is that way.”

They started to walk together, their group all but forgotten.

“So,” she said, their shoulders bumping together, “any new songs?”

“Oh! Well, I finished a song the other day for a baby food commercial. I know, not the most hardcore of gigs, but,” he shrugged happily, “it pays the bills. Maybe the babies of Brasil will like the little diddy I wrote for them.”

“How about your original solo stuff?”

Niall looked at her, finding that she was already smiling at him. He laughed, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. 

“Did Ravi tell you I’m a songwriter?”

“Um, uh,” she said, holding out the word, her smile growing. She looked away and slapped her own forehead, looking back to Niall. “Ugh, I’ve given myself up. And here I was, maintaining my cool for a whole five minutes.”

Niall’s confusion grew, a laugh barked out of his throat.

“What?”

Her eyes twinkled at him, their bodies leaning sideways on the bar. Ed was busy lining up shots, one of the bartenders quickly placing two fresh shot glasses in front of them.

“I, um, I’ve been to one of your shows,” she explained. She tugged on the end of a strand of hair, letting her head tilt with the motion. “I went with Ravi and Harry and Louis and the guys.” Her white teeth blazed over him. “Two shows, actually.”

“Wh-What?” Niall laughed, breathier, his head shaking. “Two--What--Why didn’t I meet you until tonight? How?” He searched for Harry’s head. “I’m going to have a stern talk with young Harold.”

She smiled and ducked her face down, tucking a stray wave behind her ear.

“No, no, it’s not their fault. I was…” She laughed softly. “Nervous. I didn’t want to meet you. I stayed in the back.”

Niall blinked, his facial features, even down to the tip of his nose, all lunging forward at once.

“Come again?”

She chuckled and gently nudged her fist against the front of his shoulder, her right knee bending inwards.

“I was nervous.”

“No, no, I heard you. I just…” He snorted and rolled his wrists in the air, pointing at his face. “Nervous? About this goof? About this mug?”

“I was!” she laughed. Gentle hands curled around Niall’s fists, lowering their hands to chest level. “You’re so talented and cool. It’s intimidating.”

Her thumbs rubbed once over his clenched fists, a puff of air exhaled out of Niall’s lips. 

“Here we are!” Ed said, leaning over the bar at them. He placed two shots in front of them, the liquid pink and creamy. “Cupid’s Jizz. My own creation.”

They both chuckled and looked away from each other. Niall picked up a shot, eyeing it for a beat. He offered it to her, his head shaking side to side.

“I don’t get it,” he said. 

“Yeah, same.” She accepted the shot. “I figured Cupid would come glitter, not foamy stuff.”

Niall laughed loudly, his stomach vibrating and his body hunched forward.

“Fuck, no, not--” He held up his glass and shook his head. “Not about Cupid.”

“Oh, great,” she chuckled, rolling her eyes. “That’s not embarrassing at all.”

“I’ve only just met you and I already love how your brain works,” Niall said with a wide smile, lifting his glass. “Cheers to you and your lovely, lovely brain.”

Damini laughed and clinked their glasses together, both shooting them back. The shot tasted like slightly melted cinnamon ice cream, a little tingle sinking down to their bellies.

“That was strange, but,” she shrugged, studying her empty glass, “I’m into it.”

She licked the lingering foam at the bottom, her large eyes moving up to meet Niall’s stunned face, her tongue still in the glass. She smiled and licked her lips, placing her glass on the bar.

“What?”

“How on God’s green Earth did I not see you at my gigs?”

Her smile was slow, but grew as she unzipped her small, rectangular lime green bag. She leaned the bag against Niall’s chest, her nose ring twitching as she searched inside. Niall’s face fell, his hands coming to rest under the bag, his shoulders curling inwards.

“Aw, thanks, you don’t have to hold my stuff,” she said, offering him a smile. “I’ve got it.”

A little tingle was reignited inside of Niall’s body, his eyes brightening to smile wide. 

She took the bag from him with her left hand, her right hand pulling thick black glasses out of her purse. She slid them up her nose and shouldered her bag, using her hands to pull her hair off her face. She smirked and quirked her hip.

“Ring a bell?”

Niall blinked once.

“Um, no, it does not ring a bell. You look even more gorgeous with your glasses on, so I’m not quite sure what your display was for other than to make me even crazier.”

She laughed and let go of her hair, replacing her glasses in her bag.

“You’re sweet.”

Niall watched her zip up the bag, her hair falling over the sides of her face. He reached out, his fingers inches from her hair, then pulled his hand back. She looked up at the motion and he smiled, pistoling his fingers. 

“I owe you a drink,” he said, walked around the other side of the small bar. 

Ed bumped hips with him, pinching his arse. Niall laughed and pulled two glasses from the bottom of the bar, placing them on the top. 

“Let’s see.” He surveyed the alcohol, mixers, and fresh fruit they had stocked. “What are your thoughts on fizzy drinks?”

“The fizzier the better. Extra points if there are chunks of fruit in there.”

He grinned and set to work, making a sort of Bellini inspired cocktail with prosecco, pear vodka, and fresh pear slices. 

“Here we are,” he said, pushing one across the bar. “The Damini, complete with pear slices and a crunchy sugar rim to symbolize your whole,” he swirled his hand around her face, “lightning-ness.”

She laughed, delighted, and took a sip. She hummed.

“Christ, that’s so good. Fresh.”

“It’s pretty strong, too,” Niall said, licking sugar off his bottom lip. “And I think I’ve read that something in pear skins helps prevent cancer, so there’s that bonus.”

“I can’t believe you hand cut little pear lightning bolts,” she said softly, studying the golden bubbles that filled her cup. “So cute.”

“I’m committed to my art.”

“Not...Not the pears. I meant that you are so cute. Like, really, really cute.” 

She glanced at him and smiled shakily, dropping her gaze to take another sip, the small pear lightning bolts floating at the bottom of her glass. Her hair fell in her eyes, Niall’s hand reaching out without a second thought. He pushed her hair over her ear, Damini’s surprised eyes landing on his face.

“Uh,” Niall said, bright red shock flushing his face. “Sorry, I didn’t…” He pulled his hand back. “I didn’t mean to--”

“No, it’s fine Totally fine, even! Let me just...” 

She stood on tiptoe and leaned across the bar. She gripped his both of his shoulders, her thumbs resting on the bare skin at the base of his neck. Niall’s eyes grew wider the closer she came to his face, but she tilted her head to the right. She pressed her nose to Niall’s hair, inhaling a deep breath. 

“Oh my God,” she gasped, taking another breath.

Niall’s eyes darted around without a point to focus on, his body starting to tremble and her nose brushing above his ear.

He quickly said, “Was that as hot for you as it was for me? Because, if you’re into hair, you can smell my hair anytime you want and I--” 

Her throaty giggles broke through his haze. 

“I mean,” he laughed and ran his hand through the back of his hair, “uh, what...What’s up? What’s so funny?”

She smiled at him, her nose stud glinting, her eyes glittering brighter. She stood on tiptoe and brought the side of her head to Niall’s face, her silky hair tickling his nose. Niall involuntarily shuddered, his body sucking in a breath. His eyes widened.

He ran around the side of the bar and dropped his nose to her hair, sniffing again. He laughed, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his hands curled around her outer arms.

“Oh my God! You--You--” He pointed between their heads with both pointer fingers. “You smell like me!”

“Cotton candy,” she giggled. She brought her nose to Niall’s hair and took another breath in. His eyes fluttered shut, his head leaning into her warm breaths. She whispered, “Wow,” and stepped back, her hands ghosting over Niall’s waist. “I thought I was the only adult on Earth voluntarily using baby shampoo.”

“I love a good deal,” they said at the same time.

They stared at each other for a beat, both wide-eyed and smiling. Damini snuffled out a soft breath, Niall’s heart beating so hard he could feel it in his toes. Her eyebrows arched, her smile more shy.

“Does...your girlfriend like a good deal?” 

Niall’s eyelashes fluttered quickly.

“Girlfriend? Me?” He snorted and shook his head. “No. No, nope. No girlfriend.” He watched her brows slowly sink. “Not, like, because I don’t want one,” he blurted out, his fingers fanning and his hands shaking. “It’s not that, not at all. I love women,” his voice cracked, “not, like, to an unhealthy degree. I just…” He swallowed and smiled, though the corners of his lips dragged. “I haven’t had that. In a long time.”

“Ah,” she said, holding the vowel.

“And, um,” Niall rolled up on the balls of his feet, “does your boyfriend--”

“Nope. No boyfriend,” she said, offering him a sunny smile. She handed Niall his drink, grabbing her own glass. The song changed to [California Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5wBTdfAkqGU) and her eyes lit up. “Do you want to dance?”

Harry’s deep voice carried over the noise of the party to holler, “Loooouuuis! Where’s my Loooouuuuuis?”

As they joined the dance floor, Niall saw Louis’s arms pop up from the centre of the crowd, pointing towards the sound of Harry’s voice. Louis made a grabbing motion and Harry lifted his arms above his head. He raised-the-roof with a tequila shot in each hand, swaying his hips and slicing through the dancing crowd to get to Louis, who was flanked by Liam and Zayn. 

When they met on the dance floor, they fell into each other, both laughing loud and throaty. Harry’s tie had been repurposed as a headband to hold his springy, wild curls off his forehead, while Louis’ tie was looped around Liam’s neck. Harry and Louis pinched the lime slices on their shot glasses and threw their heads back in unison, slurping down the shot.

“They’re so bloody cute,” Damini shouted in Niall’s ear, the music swelling, Harry and Louis placing their glasses on a passing waiter’s tray. 

Louis held Harry’s face in his hands with a lime slice in his mouth, their smiling lips obscenely sucking together. Lime juice dripped down their chins while they sucked and licked and laughed. Harry wrapped his arms around Louis’ waist and pulled him flush to his body, grinding their crotches to the beat.

“They are,” he beamed. Based on their chosen dance moves, and visible tongue action, he would guess the notoriously PDA-shy couple were well on their way to shit-faced. “They’re my hot dads.” He held his hand over the centre of his chest. “I love them so much!”

She laughed and pulled him into her.

Anne and Gemma observed the dancing crowd from their raised booth, both holding flutes of prosecco.

“Mum?”

“Yes, love?”

“You know that string quartet you like?”

Anne’s eyes crinkled as she smiled, still watching the crowd.

“Yes, of course. The Sun Quartet. They’re wonderful. Why?”

Gemma sipped her drink, fighting a smile.

“Do they play weddings?”

“I believe so. Why?”

She tilted her glass towards the spot Harry and Louis had taken up residency, Louis’ back to Harry, Harry grinding against his arse. As the song said to shake it, Louis bent forward and rotated his arse backwards to the beat, Harry gripping his hips and enveloping him from behind. It looked like a practiced motion, as if it was not the first time they had danced to California Love in that way.

“I have a feeling we should send them the sheet music for this song for an upcoming wedding,” Gemma said. “I’m sure the grandparents will love this as their first dance. String quartets can totally do Tupac.”

“I sincerely hope they change up their dance moves by then. Perhaps a bit less,” Anne chuckled and sipped her prosecco, “pelvic.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! In our GoogleDoc comments, I mentioned that Harry was TURNT in this chapter lol so [Jess](whitechimes.tumblr.com) and I subtitled this chapter as **The One Where Harry Wins Some Medals And Gets TURNT**.
> 
> There are sort of the outfits/looks I had in mind: [Harry's outfit](http://31.media.tumblr.com/b4c0fa4a4076a55654b17dc406f813fd/tumblr_mr4kye8Isk1rn2pt5o1_500.png) \+ [Louis' hair](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/6a/38/79/6a38792d8f39676db3e3bd3fb55199bc.jpg), though Harry’s hair is longer in my head.
> 
> I know there was a long chunk of Niall/Original Female Character, but the poor guy has spent thousands of words alone and watching H/L and Z/L being adorable. He needed a happy ending of his own <3
> 
> Also, I know that there has not been a lot of long sex scenes lately in this fic where their basis was sex lol but I promise the next chapter will have lots of sex. A legit fuckfest :D. I hope you enjoyed this chapter because I had fun writing it!


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The recovery from their wild award and afterparty night!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! Happy May! Happy weekend!
> 
> Thankyouthankyouthankyouthemost to the fabulous [Jess!](http://whitechimes.tumblr.com) for her patience, humor, sharp eye, text message gems and generous donation of her time reading my long ass docs (and they really are so outrageously long) and offering supportive, brilliant advice!! <3
> 
> This chapter, according to Jess, can be summarized as "mushy smut" lol so hopefully that works with everyone reading.
> 
> Thank you to the super supportive readers on Tumblr (who send such detailed, lovely asks!), the AO3 commenters (who BLOW my MIND with how detailed they can be when I read their adorable comments), and everyone who has been keeping up with this fic. <333 Y'all are amazing!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!!

Harry took a deep breath through his nose and held it in. His heart pounded in his eardrums, strong and steady and much more relaxed than earlier in the evening. He exhaled through his pursed lips and stretched his limbs as far as he could. His muscles burned and his bones popped until he released the stretch, his limbs relaxing to a more normal length. He rubbed the bottoms of his feet towards the corners of the king sized bed, the cool duvet causing tingles to bubble beneath his bare skin.

He opened his eyes and stared up at the white ceiling, watching light flicker over the surface. He turned his head to the right and peered out the window. The lights of London twinkled and shimmered against the murky black sky, The Eye glowing in the distance. 

It felt foreign to be in a hotel room whose layout was nothing like their bedrooms. The lamps and en suite and windows were in all the wrong places. Everything, though luxurious and well made, smelled so new. 

The linens were stiff and the king sized bed was a touch too hard when compared to how Louis’ sheets felt after they had shared the bed for a couple of nights in a row. Worn and warm and a little thinner than when the sheets first came out of the dryer. There were none of Louis’ renegade socks hidden at the bottom of the bed, the duvet and sheets tucked tight as a drum. The pillowcases did not smell like a conglomeration of their shampoos and sweat and a sweetness Harry knew belonged to him.

Even though the room was strange, Harry had never been happier to take his clothes off and fall back onto a mattress. Thinking of their wild night together made his eyes flutter closed, a grin spreading over his face and his arms stretching higher towards the headboard. He shivered in his black boxer briefs, his lower belly heating.

The sound of running water stopped behind the closed bathroom door. Harry brushed his knuckles over the wooden headboard, able to hear the water start up a few second later, the hissing faucet almost drowning out the sound of bare feet padding on tile.

Harry propped his hands behind his head and crossed his ankles together. He rested for a moment, then reached to the side. He turned off the left bedside lamp, stretching to turn off the right lamp. Moonlight poured through the tall windows, a new bunch of shapes pouring over the ceiling.

Their room was lovely, as his mother said it would be, and as modern as he figured it would be based on Louis’ taste. The dark wood bed had a pale green duvet with geometric white flowers scrawled on it. A pair of goldenrod cushioned armchairs faced each other in front of the window with a small square table between them, a matching hardwood desk flat against the wall. They were all simple furnishings but more vintage than Harry would imagine Louis selecting, as if the hotel wanted to remain current but selected pieces that harkened back to a more classic time.

A surprise night in a hotel sounded romantic, but it wasn’t until they were checking in at the hotel’s front desk that they realized they didn’t have any clothes or toiletries. Luckily, the hotel staff sent them up to their rooms with toiletry kits, even including a tiny bottle of contact solution for Louis. 

The technicalities of their stay, along with the presence of his mum, caused the heat that had built between them to simmer. They rode the lift with his mum and kissed his mum good night at the door to her room. It was not necessarily an aphrodisiac, but he felt a weird sort of semi-arousal each time he caught Louis being sweet to his mum or making her laugh. 

The up and downs and extreme spikes in excitement made for a wild night, but it was also a touch draining. He didn’t know if Louis would be up for anything besides sleep after such a long evening. 

Harry unbuckled his watch from around his wrist and dropped it on the left bedside table. He propped himself up on one elbow, itching his lower belly. He sniffled once, his itching fingers rising until he reached the centre of his chest. The en suite doorknob clicked.

“Did the contact stuff work out?” Harry asked on a yawn.

He covered his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes scrunching shut. He opened his eyes at the moment the door slowly swung open.

Light spilled into the room, illuminating Louis’ outline. He stood with his right forearm propped above his shoulder on the doorframe, his left leg bent to the side with the ball of his bare foot cushioned on the floor. The light seemed to burst brighter around his curves. The dip of his waist and the muscles flanking his knees. The arches of his feet. The bow-like bend of his strong legs.

Harry’s mouth popped open, his chin tilting to the side and his eyebrows arched high. Louis smiled crookedly.

“Hi.”

He brushed his fingers below his navel once, twice, three times, his eyelashes casting delicate shadows over his cheekbones. His fingers stroked up the divot of his abs to touch his collarbone, his head lolling slightly to the side. He pushed the tops of his left toes into the carpet and rolled his ankle. The motion caused his hip muscles to flex, his lower stomach tightening. 

Harry lifted himself to his knees. He put his hand on the bed and crawled forward. His eyes were darkened yet unfocused, as if he was in a daze, his hands gripping the duvet for each crawl, his lips set in a line.

Louis smirked, letting his bent left knee bob in and out. His fingers slid ever so slowly down the door frame until he pushed himself off with two fingers. He stepped forward, Harry’s gaze racing up and down the front of his body. 

“Well?” Louis asked, his voice nothing more than a rasped wisp in the silent hotel room. 

He lifted himself to the balls of his feet and turned, his motions controlled and graceful as a ballet dancer. He felt his calves stretch, his arse clenching, his hamstrings burning. When Harry said nothing, he turned again, slower, completing only a half rotation. His lower back arched, his hands smoothing down the backs of his thighs.

Louis looked over his shoulder and asked, “What do you think?” 

Harry knelt at the very edge of the bed, his torso straight up and his arms limp at his sides, his cock swelling against the fly of his tight boxer briefs.

“Where did you…” Harry’s lips trembled open wider, blinking slowly. His voice was deep and rough, as if his words were being pulled from the very bottom of his gut. “Did you have those on all night?”

Louis turned to face him. Where Harry’s voice was gruff, Louis’ voice was light, his words teasing over Harry’s skin like a feather’s kiss.

“What, these?” Louis reached behind his head, his biceps rounding. He dragged his fingertips down the velvet ribbons laid around his neck. He tapped the pads of his fingers against the warm metal circles resting on the centre of his chest. “No, silly. They were in your jacket pocket all night.”

Harry shook his head, his hair falling around his face.

“Not the medals, your...” His mouth remained open with no words coming out, his right hand reaching forward. “Your…”

The skin beneath Louis’ eyes curved upwards, feline and mischievous. He turned from Harry and bent his body around the door frame of the en suite. The light switch made a crisp clicking sound when he turned off the lights. He lazily ran his toes up the back of his calf with his body bent around the frame and smiled into the dark en suite. He could hear Harry’s knees shifting on the bed, a quiet creak of the mattress nearly muffling his low moan. 

“Everything alright, love?” Louis asked, his voice echoing around the en suite.

“Fuck, just--Come here.” Harry swallowed, huffing a shaky breath out of his lungs. “Please. Please come here.”

Louis turned and walked up to the bed with slow steps, dragging his thumbs over the very bottom of his hips. His own light touch made him feel shivery, the heat from Harry’s stare balancing the wave of goosebumps that overtook his skin.

“Do you like them?” Louis asked, his voice buoyant. “I had hoped you would.”

Harry exhaled a puff of air, both of his hands reaching forward. He ignored Louis tossing something on the bed, his eyes firmly fixed on the wet, pink tip of Louis’ cock poking out the top of his skintight black briefs. 

He swallowed, gruffly rasping, “I fucking love them.”

The slick, seamless material rested a breath above the base of his cock, the brown hair of his groin peeking out the top. The briefs dipped low enough on his back to emphasize the perfect curve of his spine leading to the thick swell of his arse. The briefs were cut in a high cheeky style that bordered on thong, more than half of Louis’ plump, rounded arsecheeks exposed with the material hugging up the centre of his arse.

In the silvery moonlight, Louis’ legs looked hairless, though Harry’s tongue knew otherwise. The fuzziness of Louis’ inner thighs was one of Harry’s favourite places to lick and suck and kiss, his thick muscles one of his favourite places to sink his teeth into.

“They’re surprisingly comfortable,” Louis said, conversational, brushing his fingers down the fronts of his thighs. “I might have to buy a few more pairs.”

Louis pressed the heel of his hand to his cock and moaned quietly, a drop of pre-come dribbling out of his slit and immediately absorbed by the thin material. He smiled at Harry, soft and satisfied as if they had already fucked ten times that night. 

He took one of the medals off and let his fingers go limp. The medal slid out of his grasp and dropped to the thick carpet, landing with a quiet thud. Louis smiled and stepped closer, thumbing circles on the gold face of his remaining medal. Harry’s eyes landed on his face and Louis smiled, lifting his arms up to rest behind his head.

“You don’t think they’re too…” His smile grew. “Small?”

Harry shook his head slowly.

“No.”

Louis stopped an arm's length away from Harry and dropped the other medal to the floor, watching Harry’s fingertips twitch against his outer thighs. He brought his gaze up, both staring at each other for a moment, Harry’s chest visibly heaving. 

Louis took one more step and Harry’s fingertips sank into the sides of his arse, greedily gripping both meaty cheeks with his full palms and pulling him forward. Louis relaxed and sank into his touch, allowing Harry to manhandle him until they were flush together, Harry kneeling on the end of the bed with Louis standing in front of him. Harry’s hands firmly squeezed his arse while opening his lips on the front of Louis’ throat, prompting Louis’ eyes to flutter shut, his head falling back with a high, weak sound. 

Harry wrapped his arms tight around the small of Louis’ back and attacked his collarbone. He inhaled through his nose as he sucked biting, merciless kisses over the delicate skin, the tiny, whimpered sounds falling from Louis’ only urging him onward. Louis’ cool cologne was almost overpowered by the saltiness of his sweat, metallic heat radiating up to the surface of his skin to meet each of Harry’s kisses. 

Harry squeezed his arse cheeks with both hands, kissing along the curve of his neck until he could feel Louis’ pulse pounding quick and relentless against his lips, Louis tipping his head sideways to gasp, “Fuck.”

Louis jumped forward and Harry caught him, Louis’ thighs spreading to straddle him. Harry gripped the back of his hair and sealed their lips together, Louis groaning softly and smoothing his hands up Harry’s heaving chest. Louis pinched Harry’s nipples hard, twitching his fingers, Harry’s hips stuttering upwards and a breathy, sloppy sound exhaled mid-kiss against Louis’ wet lips. 

Harry fell backwards and Louis came with him for the ride, their lips sucking desperate kisses and their bodies bouncing on the mattress. Louis planted his knees on the bed, rubbing his groin against Harry’s straining cock.

“Fucking hell, Lou,” Harry murmured, cupping his arse hard. He dug his fingers into his bare cheeks, able to see small white marks for each of his fingertips left behind. Louis twisted his nipples hard and Harry’s head tilted backwards, fisting the flimsy material. “Fucking fuck.”

Harry flipped Louis onto his back, only to grip his hips and roll him onto his stomach. The roughness of the turn made Louis moan aloud, his throat exhaling a dry, gulped sound to moan a second time. Harry started sucking kisses down the centre of his spine, Louis arching under his mouth and exhaling shaky breaths into the mattress.

Harry kissed to the top of his pants, using his teeth to drag them down his arse. Louis’ legs shifted on the bed, spreading and flattening his inner thighs to the mattress. Harry bit the back of his hip and held onto his thighs, running his hands up his tight hamstrings and biting his other rounded hip. 

The material snapped back up Louis’ arse but Harry pulled again and again, his nose panting hot breaths over Louis’ arse, saliva dampening the fabric between teeth. Harry lifted his face and licked the material that dipped between Louis’ cheeks, using his tongue to stretch the fabric and prod at his opening. 

Louis blurted out, “Oh my God,” but sounded strained, his words muffled by his forearm. 

The fabric smelled of washing powder and soap, but tasted of Louis’ fresh sweat. Harry lathed his tongue over the material, prodding lower and deeper until Louis was whimpering with each press of his tongue, pushing his hips backwards for each prod.

Harry lifted his face and licked underneath the waistband of Louis’ briefs, Louis’ hips grinding against the mattress. Harry let his tongue gently wiggle into the very top of Louis’ crack, watching Louis’ arsehole clench through the thin, wet, clinging material. Harry licked lower and one of Louis’ feet popped off the bed, his leg bending at the knee. Harry peeled his briefs down an inch and Louis’ toes curled, his leg falling back to the bed.

“Are these,” Harry said against his skin, his words muffled, “lingerie?”

“Maybe,” Louis exhaled.

“Fuck.” 

Harry’s face slipped against Louis’ slick skin, able to smell the hotel’s crisp, ocean breeze scented body wash. He dragged his fingertips up the backs of Louis’ thighs, Louis shivering beneath him. He bent over and bit the meaty bottom of Louis’ right arse cheek, Louis keening high in his throat, Harry biting across to his other cheek. He sank his teeth in deeper and bit sharper, prompting Louis to clench his cheeks and hump against the bed, Harry able to feel his muscles moving beneath his heated skin.

“Harry,” Louis whimpered, his hips rolling backwards. 

Louis tilted his head to suck in a breath of cool air, another bite on the side of his arse making his hands clench the duvet. He reached behind himself and gripped Harry’s hair, holding his head in place. Harry hummed low in his throat as if he was eating the best meal of his life and buried his face between Louis’ cheeks, the tip of his tongue stretching the material over Louis’ entrance and prodding with fast, shallow thrusts. 

Louis’ toes curled, his voice high and his words quick.

“Fuck, I was supposed to be the one teasing you with these, not the other way around.”

Harry pulled his briefs down until they snapped below Louis’ arse cheeks. He let the black fabric stay around Louis’ legs, the tight material pressing against the back of Louis’ balls and holding his legs together.

“I know you want to get fucked tonight, which I am absolutely game for,” Louis said, sucking another breath in. “But I wanted to give you one more gift as a sure thing.” He shimmied his hips and pushed the sides of the briefs down, Harry easing them down his thighs. “Just incase.”

Harry’s brows furrowed as he dragged the material over the backs of Louis’ knees, his head dipping down to kiss the tawny skin in passing. He pulled the briefs off Louis’ ankles so fast that Louis’ lower legs snapped off the bed, the tops of his feet bouncing on the mattress. 

“What gift?”

Louis’ glutes flexed and he widened his legs, pressing his inner thighs to the bed and pulling his knees up towards the top of the bed. He peered over his shoulder. His mouth hidden was hidden, but his eyes crinkled as he watched Harry’s head slowly tilt sideways, Harry’s lips a perfect, plump circle.

“You…” Harry ran his middle finger between Louis’ cheeks, the pad of his finger doing one lazy circle over his puckered, slippery opening. The light touch drew a quiet moan from Louis, his hips squirming against the bed. Harry pressed his thumb against Louis’ arse, the hot, dark pink skin stretching around his thumb, and looked up at him, shock lighting his face. “You prepped yourself.” 

“I--”

Harry bent down and sucked without warning, murmuring, “Fuck, I love you,”

Louis’ face fell forward with a jerky cry, his feet pushing back down the bed. 

“Fuck,” he gasped out, Harry moving his face side to side as he gently licked with the flat of his tongue. “Baby, I--” Louis clenched his eyes shut, his forehead pressing into the mattress and another barked, involuntary groan. “Baby, I’m gonna come if you don’t stop that. I’m so fucking horny, you have no idea. I’m ready to fucking burst.”

Harry lifted his face and licked his lips.

“Where did you…” His gaze was drawn to Louis’ arse. “How…” His face lowered to start licking again, the motions of his tongue slower. “It’s, like, hot and...” Louis rolled his hips and laughed, his entrance vibrating under Harry’s flickering tongue. “Am I crazy? Is my mouth hot?”

Louis held a tube over his shoulder.

“Once I knew we’d be here overnight, I paid a Chandelier waiter to get us lube.” Harry’s licks were interrupted by a sudden laugh, his nose pressing against Louis’ lower back. Louis grinned, swaying his foot in the air. “I didn’t ask for the warming kind, but I guess he had a favourite and went with it. I respect his choice.”

“How much?”

Louis grinned and turned over onto his back, his legs spread and his feet flat on the bed. Harry didn’t seem to mind the switch and proceeded to suck his cock, his fingers sliding beneath him to squeeze his balls.

“Fifty quid. Told him to keep the change.”

Harry gasped a laugh, Louis’ cock slipping out the corner of his mouth.

“Fifty quid?” He kissed Louis’ left inner thigh, thumbing the tender skin of his hips. “Quite a pricey purchase.”

Louis dropped the lube on the bed.

“You’re priceless, love.”

Louis sat up and got to his knees. He flattened his hand on Harry’s abs and gave him a gentle push, Harry stretching out on his back. He gripped Harry’s boxer briefs and pulled them down, easing them over his thighs. He dragged his lips over the dusting of hair on the tops of Harry’s thighs, biting softly on each knee cap and pulling the material lower.

“Fuck me, these legs,” Louis muttered, reaching Harry’s ankles. 

He threw Harry’s pants on the floor and pushed himself up the bed, his mouth open before he even started suckling the head of Harry’s cock. He saw Harry’s hip dents flex in his peripheral vision when he squeezed his foreskin and pushed it lower, only to squeeze his hand tight and ease his foreskin back up his cock, kissing over his foreskin covered shaft. He lightly stroked the length of his cock as he eased the skin down and started to suck again, Harry’s abs clenching and squirming each time he repeated the slow pass. 

“Lou,” Harry gasped, arching his groin upwards. Louis reached between his legs and gripped his balls, thumbing from ball to ball as he used his other four fingers to massage the heavy sack. Harry’s eyes shut and his fingers dug into Louis’ shoulders. “Fuck, Lou. C’mere. Come up here.”

Louis stopped sucking and kissed Harry’s lower belly, kissing up his abs until he reached his chest. Harry laced his fingers in Louis’ hair and pulled him up, Louis’ tongue confused and still stretched towards Harry’s nipple.

Harry cradled Louis’ face with his right hand, his left hand flat on the side of his neck, their lips slotting together with ease. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s lower back. Harry spread his legs, their groins grinding together.

“You’re so hard,” Louis whispered, his right hand sliding down Harry’s back to grip his arse. “Fucking hell.”

“When I said to come up here, I meant for something else, but this is also quite nice.”

“Quite nice?” Louis chuckled, pulling his face back. “What did you mean?” 

Harry tapped the backs of Louis’ thighs and thumbed upwards. Louis smiled and pecked his lips. He shifted until his feet were resting against the headboard, Harry turning on his side to face him. 

“You want it like this?” Louis asked, Harry already pressing his face to his groin. “Or do you want me to--” Louis’ breath caught, his cock sliding into Harry’s mouth, Harry’s cheek ballooning outwards. “Want me--Want me to sit on your face?”

Harry’s tongue slurped upon pulling his mouth off Louis’ cock.

“Can’t we have both tonight?”

Louis smiled and lifted his top thigh, letting it rest on top of Harry’s cheek and rolling his hips forward. He kissed Harry’s slit, swirling his tongue over it once.

“You can have whatever you want.”

Harry’s hands spread on both of Louis’ arse cheeks. His palms sank into the meaty flesh while his fingertips stretched Louis open.

“I’m ready, too, whenever you want to fuck me,” Harry murmured, tonguing the skin between Louis’ thigh and groin. “Without getting too graphic, I...” His eyelashes fluttered, his mouth moving without sound, the tip of Louis’ relentlessly teasing over his slit. He exhaled and pressed his face to the sharp smelling hair of Louis’ groin. “I prepped, too. Employee toilet at Chandelier.”

Louis hummed and squeezed Harry’s arse, ghosting his fingertips between his cheeks.

“Just need to get you wet.”

“Mmhmm.”

Louis brought his right hand to Harry’s cock, jerking him slowly.

“You mean to tell me you snuck away from the party and fingered yourself in the middle of a crowded club?” he murmured, low and quiet. He dug his thumbnail in on the ridge below Harry’s head, Harry’s hips bucking forward. “That you licked those,” he used two fingers to barely tease up and down Harry’s bobbing cock, “long, gorgeous fingers of yours,” Harry’s abs clenched, “and stuck them inside yourself before coming back to the party to talk to your friends? Your family? You filthy fucking wet dream.”

Harry tried to say Louis’ name as he sucked, but the sound was nothing more than a low, breathy whimper, saliva dripping out the corners of his mouth to pool on the bed. His hips moved with a mind of their own, trying to arch closer to get his cock into Louis’ mouth, Louis’ light, almost bored touch tickling the wet skin of his shaft.

“Did you think of me?” Louis asked. He jerked him properly, Harry lifting his mouth off to suck in a breath. “When you fingered yourself in a public toilet, where anyone could have walked in on you, did you think of me? Did you think of me pounding into you?” Louis maintained eye contact but jutted his chin back. “How I’m going to fuck you senseless on that ugly chair by the window?”

“Yeah,” Harry shuddered out, his eyes dazed. “I did.” A bit of sparkle shimmered in his gaze, air rushing into his lungs. He licked his lips. “Ugly chair and all.”

Louis smiled, smoothing his hands to Harry’s arse and sucking him steadily. Harry resumed sucking while watching Louis’ head bob, Louis’ thighs hugging his face. Louis spread Harry’s legs wider and looped his arms around the backs of his thighs, hugging Harry’s legs to hold him in place. 

The room was taken over by the sound of sucking, the air they managed to suck into their nostrils hissing amongst slick clicking and heavy breathing. The mutual pleasure, something they often did when on a time crunch, had no time limit. There was no meeting to get to or flatmate due home. 

Their bodies started to move together, hips gently grinding forward into bobbing lips, their bodies a mirror of each other. They found a growing, accelerating rhythm on their sides so similar to the rhythm that came naturally in every other position they had explored together, saliva dripping down to dampen the duvet beneath each of their groins.

Harry’s eyebrows shot up when a hot, slick finger started to massage his opening, his momentary shock melting to pleasure as Louis sucked and fingered him, his own fingers dipping between Louis’ cheeks. Louis pulled back to breath, his lips shining and swollen. He offered Harry a smile, his eyes heavy and dark.

“S’like our first time,” Louis whispered, panting as he spoke.

Harry’s legs clenched around his face, a pained moan vibrating against Louis’ skin. Harry’s eyes slammed shut, two of Louis’ fingers curving inside of him. Harry pulled his mouth back.

“We have to--Can we--”

Louis nodded and shifted backwards, his hard cock bobbing side to side.

“You or me?” Louis asked, spreading his legs. A crooked smile lifted the left side of his mouth, the skin beneath his left eye plumping to smile wider. “Or both?”

“Both?”

Louis propped his hands behind his head.

“We can take turns.”

Harry got to his knees, gripping himself and stroking.

“Is that possible?”

Louis searched the right bedside table and found a box of tissues.

“It’s how we do everything, isn’t it? Might be a bit messy, but when has fun ever been squeaky clean?”

Harry smiled and crawled closer, settling between Louis’ legs. His right hand slid up the back of Louis’ thigh to land behind his knee, his left hand ghosting up Louis’ side. He lifted Louis’ leg to his shoulder, Louis’ hands rubbing up and down his back.

“Very true,” he said, kissing the inside of his knee. He and Louis shared a smile, their lips sucking together, Louis’ arms tightening to pull Harry to his body. The mix of lube, saliva, sweat and pre-come melded into one neutral, heady taste, their tongues stroking against each other. Harry shifted his hips to the right and reached between his legs, lining himself up. He whispered, “Like another of our firsts,” and smiled, kissing Louis softer. 

He pressed inside, Louis’ low, muffled cry sounding against Harry’s lips. Louis’ fingernails pinched into his skin, Harry’s hips smoothly sliding back before pressing forward again. Louis’ shuddered moan cut through the breath filled air, Harry kissing along his jawline and continuing his easy thrusts. 

“Oh God,” Louis whispered, his hands crawling down to Harry’s arse. He gripped his clenching cheeks, not to push faster, but to hold onto him as he thrust deeply, sweat already pooling on Harry’s brow. “Fuck, baby. Fucking--” He panted for a moment, letting his head fall back on his pillow. “You’re so hard. So fucking hard. Feels--” Harry’s hips snapped faster once and Louis gasped, his leg trembling on Harry’s shoulder. Harry hitched his other leg up over his shoulder, Louis’ toes curling and clenching. “Feels fucking amazing.”

Harry pressed his forearms on the bed beside Louis’ face, his shins flat on the bed and his toes digging in to push himself up, his upper back curving out as he thrust. Louis’ hand stroked through his hair and Harry looked at him. Louis smiled, his own damp hair falling over his face, feverish pink dotting his cheekbones. 

[Oh My Love - John Lennon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p5Kh-IMKDqM)

Harry’s jawline suddenly ached, his eyes twitching. The corners of his lips tried to lift but the rest of his face could not form a smile, as if his brain ordered him to remain in place and study Louis’ every rection. To continue driving into Louis until his blush deepened and sweat dripped down his temples and his feet flexed without his control on Harry’s shoulders. To stare down at Louis as his thrusts grew faster and their laboured grunts were lost in their mouthed half-kisses. 

Louis’ smile faded but he did not look sad, his right hand smoothing down the side of Harry’s sweaty neck. He studied Harry’s face as his expression changed from seriousness to shock to pure amazement. For one half second, Harry peered down at him as if he was a stranger, only to widen his eyes ever so slightly half a second later as if he recognized who Louis was. As if he knew every secret thought Louis had ever had and every detail there was to know about a person. 

Beams of warmth poured over Louis’ face from Harry’s shimmering, wet eyes, their hearts pounding against each other’s chests. Louis blinked fast and looked away, his mouth bursting open to moan near Harry’s ear, his eyes clenching shut. 

Harry grunted low in his throat, nosing Louis’ sweaty temple. He moved his head and guided Louis face with shaking fingers, his touch slipping over Louis’ cheekbone. Their eyes locked, their bodies working together as Harry’s thrusts sped up. 

Louis’ throat bobbed, his pursed lips twitching into a tighter pout, his nostrils flaring. Harry’s brows pinched slightly inwards. He thumbed Louis’ cheekbone, touching just beneath his eyelid. 

A hot drop of moisture landed on the tip of Louis’ nose. There was no laugh or joke or comment, only heavy breathing growing heavier, their motions moving faster. More desperate. A shimmer of liquid fattened across Louis’ lower eyelid until it turned to a drop and slid out the corner of his eye. It trickled down his cheek, only to be caught by the pad of Harry’s thumb and sucked into Harry’s mouth. 

“Fuck,” Louis breathed, his head involuntarily nodding forward.

Harry rolled his hips in a slow circle on an inwards thrust and Louis’ breath caught, his eyes rolling back, his whole body arching up against Harry’s firm weight.

“I love you,” Harry whispered against his lips. 

“I-I love y-you,” Louis whispered shakily, Harry’s mouth opening against his own as soon as he finished the word you. Another drop landed on Louis’ brow, a matching tear sliding out the corner of Louis’ right eye. “I love you so much.” Louis’ inhalation through his nose wracked his body, Harry’s loud breaths huffing against his mouth. “The most.”

Harry’s fingers clenched in Louis’ hair, the backs of his thighs on fire. 

“I--I’ve never--” Harry tried to breath in and thrust at the same time but his throat could not manage both, his voice thick to say only, “Louis--”

Louis blinked rapidly, a bright smile lighting his face. 

“Yeah, I…” Louis kissed Harry’s right eyelid, then his left, Harry’s thumbs rubbing beneath his eyes. “I’ve never slept with someone I love, either.”

“Mindreader,” Harry shuddered out, their foreheads pressing together. “God, Louis, I…”

Louis smacked Harry on the arse with both hands.

“Get on your back, please.”

Harry blinked at him and Louis smiled wider.

“C’mon, get on with it or else I’m going to come.” Louis nudged his chin forward, mischief crinkling his eyes. “I can’t be the only person tonight who experiences what it’s like to have, ‘The man I love inside of me.’”

[You Make Loving Fun - Fleetwood Mac](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ssXFJ1ZKsQg)

Harry stared at him for one more moment before he laughed, the bubbly sound pulled up from the bottom of his butterfly filled stomach. 

“Oh my God, I was so drunk in the car,” Harry said, fluttering butterflies surging to his hot face. “Mortifying.”

Louis smiled and kissed his lips, cradling the back of his head with both hands, a shaky breath between them melting into a laugh. 

“Mortifying? I’m gonna get that knitted onto a decorative throw for our new guest room.”

They laughed again and Harry pulled out, Louis’ legs lowering to the bed.

“But what if I want you on your back?” Harry asked, long lashes swaying slowly, his smile coy. He walked his fingers up Louis’ chest and lifted his left leg, swinging himself onto Louis’ groin. He got himself settled as if he was preparing to ride a horse, his palms running up and down over Louis’ nipples. “Did you ever think about that?”

The natural sway of his long body didn’t make sense with the thickness of how his muscles laid on his bones, but the contrast made Louis’ eyes cross. His eyes shut fully when Harry dribbled fresh lube on his cock and started to stroke.

“I think about that more than anything else on Earth,” Louis rasped.

Harry laughed louder and squirmed into place, angling Louis’ head at his arse. He prodded at his own arse twice, spreading the remnants of lube on his fingers over his opening.

“I should finger you a--” Louis’ words died on his tongue, the back of his head pressing into his pillow and his eyes widening. “Oh fuck--Oh--”

His face took on the shocked, awestruck expression Harry had mere minutes earlier. He squinted as if he was in pain, his hips jutting up to meet Harry’s slow, tight grinds. Harry smiled down at him, the thick tops of his thighs bulging and swelling each time he lifted himself on Louis’ cock, his hair tumbling over his cheekbones and teasing at his neck.

“Don’t want your fingers right now,” Harry whispered, panting. “Want your cock.”

“Whatever you want,” Louis breathed. He squeezed Harry’s hips. “Forever and ever and ever.”

Harry smiled wider. 

“I like the sound of that.”

Harry leaned down and sucked their lips together. He nibbled Louis’ bottom lip before biting on it and pulling, Louis’ top lip snarling as they kissed harder. Louis returned Harry’s kisses, tender and slow, but continued to squint down his body, his eyes glued to the swiveling motion of Harry’s hips. Harry’s flexing obliques, the muscles running along the sides of his abs, were hypnotizing, sweat shining on the centre of his stomach and trickling into his navel.

Louis reached out and held onto Harry’s arse, Harry picking up the pace of his bounces.

“Oh good God,” Louis said, thrusting up to meet each bounce, Harry huffing laughs. “Fuck me, you’re so fucking hot. Fucking--” Louis’ jaw dropped, his chest heaving faster. High, tight moans gasped out with each thrust, his breath growing frantic. “Holy fuck--I--”

Louis’ eyes clenched shut and his whole body trembled, his finger digging into Harry’s skin. Harry slowed his bounces, bouncing just enough to keep Louis inside of him. Louis opened his eyes and gazed up at him, his hands sliding to the front of Harry’s hips.

“Now I want you on your back,” Louis said, his voice gruff.

Louis moved before Harry realized what was happening, sitting up and flattening his hands on the fronts of Harry’s shoulders. His cock slipped out of Harry’s arse in the shift, Louis using his full weight to push Harry onto his back with his head at the end of the bed.

“I know I said we’d switch,” Louis said, wrapping his hands around the outside of Harry’s thighs. “But you feel so fucking incredible, I think you deserve the honour this time around.”

Harry smiled with his damp hair spread over his face and lifted his legs to wrap around Louis’ waist, linking his ankles behind Louis’ back. Louis pushed Harry’s hair back but kept his fingers laced in his hair, his other hand rubbing over Harry’s slippery opening. He lined up and jutted his hips forward three times, tightening his grip on Harry’s hair and pulling his hips back before thrusting long and slow.

“Umgh,” Harry shuddered against Louis’ lips, opening his mouth to allow Louis’ tongue inside. Louis’ hips sped up and Harry’s eyes rolled back in his head, Louis’ balls slapping loudly against his arse. “Fucking--Fuck!”

Louis slowed and pulled his hips back far enough for his head to nearly slip out of Harry’s arse. He drove himself forward on one firm push, Harry’s throat releasing a low, long moan out of his agape lips.

“You like that?” Louis asked, repeating the motion and pinching one of Harry's nipples.

Harry nodded and Louis pulled his hair gently, Harry’s moan growing louder as Louis tightened his hand. Louis continued the growing tease of thrusts, a handful of quick, short humps followed by nearly pulling out, only to slam back inside with devastating accuracy, his round arse and thick legs clenching for each thrust.

“Oh fuck!” Harry cried, his thighs shaking around Louis’ ribs. “Fucking hell!”

Louis continued to swirl his tongue on Harry’s reddened neck, his hips delivering slow thrust after slow thrust, sweat pouring from his hairline to trickle down his back. Harry’s fingernails drew another collection of pink, raised lines between Louis’ shoulder blades, his lower belly starting to ache.

Louis slapped the mattress until he found the lube. He pulled the cap open with his teeth and spit it off the side of the bed. Harry watched Louis’s hand squeeze the tube and hissed, flexing his hips up, beads of the slick liquid sliding over his flushed, straining cock. Louis rested his left forearm beside Harry’s head and leaned his weight onto it, stroking him with his right hand and resuming his thrusts.

Harry whimpered and tightened his legs, his hands sliding down to Louis’ arse. Louis’ hips snapped faster under Harry’s grip.

“You good?” Louis asked, breathless.

Harry nodded and tilted his head, Louis kissing him with as much firmness as he could, both breathing heavily. Louis’ hand tightened for three slippery, quick strokes and Harry whimpered against his lips, his head falling back on the bed.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispered, Louis sucking kisses to his Adam’s apple. “Oh my fucking--” Louis’ hips started to involuntarily tremble as he thrust. “Fuck, Louis!”

Louis moaned high in his throat, the tiny, near invisible hairs on his lower back standing at attention, his glutes aching, Harry’s body only urging him to go faster, harder, stronger. He pounded into him, their lips tenderly sliding together until Louis cried out, “Shit!” 

He wrenched his face to the side and pressed his nose against Harry’s soaked neck. A loud, throaty shout echoed around the room, another involuntary noise barked out of his throat as his hips slapped faster. He cried out, “Oh fuck!”

Louis felt his own come squelching inside of Harry as he rode out his orgasm. The rapidfire clench and release of Harry’s body around his cock bordered on painful, on too sensitive, as he shot hot inside of Harry’s arse, the overstimulated head of his cock nudging Harry’s prostate over and over. His hand shook uncontrollably as he stroked Harry faster, his bicep burning. 

Harry’s groan came out as a broken sob. He buried his face in the side of Louis’ hair, both of his arms squeezing around Louis’ upper back, his feet cramping from clenching so hard. Come shot up between them and hit Louis’ chest, the up and down motion of Louis’ stomach spreading come over Harry’s panting abs.

Louis squeezed his hand around Harry’s cock and Harry’s body arched wickedly beneath him, another low moan whimpered into Louis’ hair. Louis’ head felt heavy when he lifted his face from Harry’s neck, their lips seeking each other out to kiss softly, hot breaths panting between them. Harry cupped Louis’ cheek, their eyes falling shut with matching quiet, high whimpers, their lips still connected. Louis’ hand loosened from Harry’s hair to cradle his cheek, as well, both pressing gentle fingers to each other’s cheeks and necks as they kissed.

Harry groaned breathily and let his head fall back on the mattress, his damp, darkened hair a halo around his face, his arms flat on the bed above his head. Louis flattened on top of him with an exhausted, “Fuck,” the word murmured against Harry’s neck. Harry laughed faintly, his thighs spreading to let his legs relax on the bed.

They breathed together for a few minutes, their dewy sweat dripping onto each other’s skin, both fading in and out of consciousness. When Louis almost fell asleep, Harry shifted his hips, the tightening of his arse pulling Louis back and making him groan as he smiled. When Harry almost fell asleep, Louis started to kiss along his collarbone and nuzzle his neck, Harry grinning at the light brushes of air from Louis’ nose.

“Want me to pull out?”

“No,” Harry sighed.

Louis smiled wider and kissed Harry’s jawline.

“You’ll ache.”

“I already ache for you, my love.”

“Ugh,” Louis laughed, reaching behind himself. He grabbed a handful of tissues and eased himself out of Harry, pressing tissues to Harry’s arse. Harry hissed through his back teeth and spread his legs wider. “Y’alright?”

Harry stretched his arms over his head, his lower back arching off the bed.

“I’m fantastic,” Harry drawled, his voice low. Louis grinned as he cleaned himself up, flushing under Harry’s satisfied, warm gaze. “Shower?”

“Sure.”

“Sex in the shower?”

“Of course,” Louis scoffed.

Louis leaned his upper body off the bed, humming and stretching towards the bin beneath the bedside table. He tossed his tissues inside and brushed his hands together. He froze, a shocked giggle bubbling from his lips. 

“Harry,” he said, his giggles joined by Harry’s low chuckles. Louis arched his foot and swayed his bent leg in the air, gripping the duvet to stay on the bed. “What are you doing back there?”

Harry’s lips brushed down the back of his thigh, kissing behind his knee and nipping the thick muscle of his calf.

“You’re all prepped and ready to go.” He smoothed his hand over Louis’ right arse cheek, giving him a gentle squeeze. “It’s hard to resist.”

Louis smiled and rolled onto his back, hanging half off the bed. 

“I’m sweaty.”

Harry gripped his thighs.

“Even better.”

“Let’s shower,” Louis said, starting to laugh as his body was pulled onto the mattress, his legs spreading to place his feet flat on either side of Harry. “I feel like my hair smells like mac and cheese balls from being in the party room for so long.”

Harry picked Louis up from the hips, one of his hands cradling between Louis’ shoulder blades to pull him upright, Louis stradling Harry’s lap.

“No wonder I’m ravenous,” Harry said on a growl, biting the arch of Louis’ neck.

Louis couldn’t control the high, airy giggle that escaped his lips, Harry smiling against his skin and biting softer. Louis tilted his head to land a kiss on Harry’s cheek, his arms resting on top of Harry’s shoulders. Harry kissed the spot he bit, dragging his nose up Louis’ neck until he reached beneath his ear. 

“I still can’t really believe this night was real,” Harry whispered, pressing his nose to Louis’ hair and breathing in deeply. “Or that it all happened in a matter of hours.”

Louis stroked the back of his hair.

“It seems like change happens that way a lot of the time. Rapidfire. Blitzkrieg.”

“Mmm.”

Harry lifted his face from Louis’ neck and pursed his lips, Louis nudging their lips together for an innocent peck.

“Mmm,” Harry hummed again, longer and deeper, his eyes fluttering shut. He kissed Louis’ lips firmer, their tongues brushing together, his fingers running through the back of Louis’ hair. Louis felt Harry’s cock harden a touch. “You do smell like mac and cheese.”

Louis laughed and wiggled out of his lap, Harry grinning with his arms outstretched, his fingers still trying to grip Louis’ arse. Louis started to back towards the en suite, quirking one finger. Harry got up off the bed with his arms stretched over his head.

“I have a load of come on my stomach, don’t I?” Harry asked.

Louis simply smiled and nodded from the en suite, his shoulder leaning on the doorframe. 

“Nips, too.”

Harry released his stretch and shrugged, looping an arm around Louis’ waist. He bent over and kissed the top of Louis’ head, their sides pressed together for the stroll into the en suite.

. . .

“This is even bigger than the one at your place,” Harry said, dunking his hair under the pounding stream. “Crazy jets on the sides, as well.”

Louis smoothed soap suds off of Harry’s shoulders, watching clear water run over the tops of his fingers. He kissed Harry’s right shoulder blade and Harry turned, smiling wide. He flattened his hands on the small of Louis’ back and pulled him under, their lips sucking together. Louis thumbed his right nipple, pinching it gently.

“Will these products irritate your skin?”

“Nah,” Harry said, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t worry about it. I might not smell like a cupcake tonight, but I’ll live.”

Louis’ face tilted down towards Harry’s cock, plump and long enough to bob side to side when Louis’ cock nudged against it.

“Do you want something, love?” Harry asked, fighting a wide smile. His fingers were gentle to rinse conditioner out of Louis’ hair. “Something up?”

Louis flattened himself to Harry’s chest, kissing his right nipple, then his left, traveling back and forth to kiss whatever skin he could get his mouth on. He peered up at Harry with big, blue eyes, his dark hair slicked back. He pulled towards the in-shower bench and Harry grinned.

“Please, fuck me,” Louis said, kissing Harry’s neck and taking one step back. Harry followed him, Louis spinning him for the last steps to the bench. He guided Harry to sit and straddled him, his arms around Harry’s neck while Harry’s arms looped around his lower back. “I could resist when I knew I smelled like cheese, but I can’t resist you now. I just can’t.”

Harry chuckled and rubbed his hands over Louis’ arse, squeezing his outer thighs.

“You still alright?” he asked, two of his fingers pressing against Louis’ arse. Louis gasped and sat back, Harry’s brows furrowed as he pumped his fingers. Harry thumbed behind Louis’ balls, pressing on his perineum while fingering him. Louis let out a quieter gasp, his forehead falling onto Harry’s shoulder. 

“Fuck,” Louis said, his hands squeezing Harry’s sides. “I’m so fucking ready. Been ready for ten bloody hours. Do have any idea how difficult it was not to get hard wearing those things? It was like I had nothing on under my trousers.”

Harry’s fingers quirked left and Louis howled into his neck.

“Oh, yeah?” Harry asked, his tone teasing.

“Yeah, I--” Harry pressed harder and Louis’ hips humped forward with small, involuntary motions. “Oh my God,” he moaned, half laughing his words. His fingernails dug into Harry’s wet skin, his arse riding Harry’s hand. “You’re way too good at that.”

Harry chuckled and eased the rhythmic presses of his fingers. He tilted his face, whispering in Louis’ ear, “Fuck yourself on my cock, lovely.”

Louis shuddered and lifted himself, reaching under his arse to grip Harry’s cock. Harry’s fingers slipped out of his arse and planted on his hip as Louis sank down lower. Louis lifted his left hip, then his right hip, his knees slipping on the wet bench. Harry pulled him closer to his body and spread his own legs wider, giving Louis the vee of his thighs to lean back on. 

“Fuck yes,” Louis whispered, sinking down. 

He bounced once, slow and easy, with just a couple of inches inside of him, his eyes fluttering shut. He started to lean backwards the more length he took, the lean muscles of his torso stretching. He leaned back far enough for the shower to pound on his shoulders, hot water pouring down his abs to pool on their joined bodies.

Harry hissed on an inhale and flattened his right hand between Louis’ shoulder blades, his left hand at mid-back. He supported Louis as Louis’ hips undulated, his mouth moving to say silent, non-words. Harry pulled Louis closer to his torso, hugging him as he bounced up and down.

“Sort of like another of our firsts,” Harry said, kissing the corner of Louis’ mouth. 

Louis opened his eyes and stared at Harry. Both squinted slightly, their mouths opening at the same time.

“Are we going to get emotional every time we have sex from now on?” Louis asked, already out of breath. “Not that it wasn’t emotional before, s’just--” Louis moaned and arched his lower back, Harry’s middle finger sliding in beside his cock. “I dunno if I want to cry or fuck you senseless whenever I look at you. What is that all about?”

Harry gripped his arse and thrust up into him, Louis’ breath catching in his throat and his hair falling over his face.

“Let’s give ourselves tonight,” Harry said, landing a firm slap on the meatiest part of Louis’ left cheek. Louis gripped his hair and bit at his lips, Harry spanking him on his right cheek. “And,” his voice trembled, his smile watery, “maybe, like, another week or so.” He gave Louis the gentlest of spanks. “Just to get used to it.”

Louis laughed and pushed Harry’s back against the glass, bracing himself on his shoulders to ride faster.

. . .

“And you thought I was kidding.”

Harry’s lungs sucked breath in as best he could, his entire body ablaze and teetering on the edge of orgasm. He stared down at the golden fabric cushion pressed beneath his cheek, his arms stretched down in front of himself and spread to each leg of the chair. Louis’ thrusts propelled his hips forward into the cushy back of the armchair, his body bent over in an upside down V shape.

“You said--You--Oh,” Harry gasped, clenching his eyes shut. Louis walked his fingers up Harry’s sides, giving another leisurely hump of his hips. “You said,” his voice cracked, “bed.”

“We’ll get there.”

Louis’ fingers barely touched the red, dripping tip of Harry’s aching cock, another deep ram making Harry cry out. Harry pulled at his wrists, two velvet loops binding him to the legs of the arm chair. His medals clanked dully against the thick carpet, his biceps clenching and the legs of the chair groaning. 

Louis wrapped his hand around Harry’s cock, squeezing his head for each firm upstroke. Harry tried to push back against him, his feet barely touching the floor in his position bent over the back of the chair

“First you finger yourself in a toilet stall,” Louis’ voice murmured in his ear, his thrusts speeding up. He bit a kiss to the back of Harry’s neck, inhaling his fresh sweat and shampoo, his hair still damp. “Then you talk dirty to me in the car, in front of that innocent driver.” Harry’s voice droned nonsense along with Louis’ words, his toes lifted off the ground from Louis’ hard thrusts. “And now, here we are. Bare arsed and fucking in front of the entire bloody city.”

Harry’s arse clenched around him, his droned nonsense turning to a deep, throaty cry, his voice going in and out in time with Louis’ thrusts. He couldn’t see the view, but the view could certainly see them.

“Fuck me, you’re so fucking beautiful,” Louis whispered, pressing frantic kisses to Harry’s neck, his free arm hugging around Harry’s chest. “So amazing.” He kissed Harry’s sweating temple and squeezed him, a broken groan morphing into him saying, “I love you so fucking much.”

That only pulled a higher, louder moan from Harry, his body trembling without his control as he shot hot into Louis’ hand, his balls tightening up to his body. Louis slowed his hips but squeezed his hand, Harry’s come clicking inside his tight fist as he jerked him.

Harry panted against the chair as he came down, fresh sweat coating his entire body, the tips of his toes twitching on the carpet and the chair sagging under his full weight.

“So much for the shower,” he panted, his voice cracking. He blinked confusedly at the curve of Louis’s back, Louis walking into the en suite. “What are you doing?”

Louis came out with a wet flannel, swiping it over his own cock. He returned to Harry’s side and gave his arse two quick, efficient swipes. He tossed the flannel into the en suite, brushing his hands over his thighs as he walked back to Harry. 

He knelt down in front of the chair. Mischief twinkled in his eyes despite the angry, deep rose color of his cock, still very hard and straining up against his belly.

“I quite like you like this,” he said, untying Harry’s right wrist. “You’re sort of sexy when bound, which makes no sense, since I like it when you throw me around a bit, but,” he shrugged and placed both medals beside the chair, “sex is sort of a mystery, isn’t it? I never liked that sort of thing before you. Who knows where it came from.”

He leaned over and lifted Harry’s hands one by one to press kisses around his wrists, kissing his palms once on each hand. He looked up at Harry, who still stared at him in extreme confusion, his body shaking with exhausted breaths. Louis’ lips curved up and he chuckled, dropping his head. 

Louis stood and took a pillow off the other arm chair. He dropped it on the floor behind Harry and lifted Harry’s body from its spot melted over the back of the chair. 

“Lie down, please,” Louis said, easing Harry onto his back, his head cradled by the pillow.

Harry stared up at him with wide eyes and a full, round mouth. His confusion changed to such glowing admiration that Louis had to look away, a quiet laugh huffed from his lips. He turned his back to Harry and stepped over him, his feet at Harry’s upper ribs. 

Louis got down to his knees and scooted an inch backwards, bracing his hands on Harry’s hips. The tops of his feet and shins were flat on the floor, his lips kissing over Harry’s lower stomach. Harry’s skin was flushed and reddened from the chair rubbing over his skin, Louis’ cool fingers and lips ghosting over the heated skin. 

“Are you...Are we,” Harry said, trailing off. 

His stomach started to rise and swell faster under Louis’ lips, his hands itching over the carpet. Louis licked into his navel and slurped a mouthful of come, Harry’s abs clenching and his toes visibly trembling at the end of his limp legs. 

“Gotta clean you up,” Louis said, using his teeth to gently bite another slick spot on Harry’s lowest abs, tongue lathing over the bite. “And I believe you had a request, so.” Louis lifted his face from Harry’s stomach and licked his lips, glancing over his shoulder. He used his toes to give Harry’s upper sides a soft prod, his lower back arching just so. “Have at it.”

Harry’s brows rose, his round lips spreading into a smile.

“Oh, I--You--”

Louis grinned at him and sat back, Harry’s shaking hands wrapping around his hips.

“Another one of our...” 

Louis’ voice broke off, an airy sigh shivering through his body and emerging as a puff of air out of his swollen throat. 

Harry lapped over his arsehole with the flat of his tongue, his long fingers scrunching into the slight pudge on the fronts of Louis’ hips. One of his hands wrapped around Louis’ straining cock and Louis shouted, “Fuck,” short and loud, his head falling forward to mouth at the damp hair of Harry’s groin. “Oh, fuck,” Louis said, quieter, almost on a sob. “Jesus Christ, Harry.”

Louis started to grind backwards, Harry’s right hand jerking him fast while his left hand squeezed Louis’ hip, pulling him harder against his licking tongue. 

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna come,” Louis gasped out, his face pressing harder to the strong smelling crease of Harry’s thigh and groin. Harry used both hands to hold onto his hips and guide him faster, Louis’ upper body falling to rest on Harry’s lower body. Louis’ eyes clenched, Harry gripping his hips tighter, his tongue seeming wetter and hotter by the second. “Harry--Fuck, I--”

Harry’s tongue slipped inside of him and Louis shuddered, his moan muffled by Harry’s sweaty inner thigh. He bit down on the pale skin as he came, his arse clenching around Harry’s tongue, his cock spilling onto Harry’s chest. Harry hummed deeply and continued licking him as he came, his hand slickly clicking over Louis’ throbbing cock.

Louis released his bite to breathe. His quick, uneven breaths fluffed the downy hair on Harry’s damp inner thigh, Harry’s feet shifting in his hazy peripheral vision. He reached out and smoothed his hands over the reddened bite, his teeth marks standing out. He kissed the spot and sat up, both of his palms flat on the carpet between Harry’s legs. Louis lifted his leg and rolled onto his back.

Both men laid side by side on the carpet, naked, sweaty and smiling up at the ceiling. Louis’ legs were bent with his feet tucked to the side, his knees pointed towards Harry, his arms limp over his head. Harry’s legs were straight, his arms spread away from his body, his left thumb lazily rubbing over Louis’ closest foot.

Two cars honked on the street below, the sound barely carrying through the thick hotel window.

Louis fluttered one hand in the air and declared, “We should just live here,” before his arm fell back to the carpet.

Harry laughed and squeezed his toes, rolling over to kiss each of Louis’ ankles. He pulled his legs in and got himself up to his feet. He put his hands on his hips and smiled down at Louis. 

Harry bent over and slid his arms under Louis’ upper back and thighs. Louis wordlessly scrunched enough to fit in Harry’s arm span, his hands sliding up Harry’s chest to link behind his neck as his body was lifted into the air. Harry tilted his head and kissed Louis’ collarbone, letting his face rest in Louis’ neck for a breath, Louis’ fingers stroking through his hair. 

Louis placed three soft kisses on Harry’s temple, his hand smoothing down to warm the back of his neck. Harry held Louis tight to his chest, Louis’ feet lazily swaying in the air.

They were silent for the walk to the en suite. Naked, covered in come, beaming and silent.

. . .

Louis pulled his left eyelid open wide, his right fingers pinching at the flimsy layer of his contact. He pulled the contact from his eye and dropped it in a teacup filled with contact solution, his other contact already floating in its own teacup.

Harry’s voice called out, “Uh oh, look what’s on,” from the bedroom. Louis heard a familiar [opening credit song](https://vimeo.com/67689902), a female singer cooing over an electronic beat. “Your new favourite.”

Louis turned off the en suite lights and walked into the dark bedroom. The television illuminated Harry’s smiling face milky white, the long line of his naked body also lit up a paler blue. Harry lifted the remote towards Louis, see-sawing it in the air. Louis smirked and sat on the bed beside Harry’s shoulders. He took the offered remote, pointed it at the screen and turned off the television.

Harry rolled onto his side, smoothing his hand over Louis’ knee.

“You don’t want to watch? I don’t think we’ve seen that episode yet.”

Louis’ smirk grew into a giggle.

“I feel like you secretly like the show, even though you pretend the only reason you watch it is because I watch it.”

Harry shook his head, his nose crinkling.

“No way. Well.” He held up two fingers to pinch the air, his face scrunched. “Maybe a little.”

Louis laughed and leaned down, kissing Harry’s lips softly.

“Let’s go to bed," Louis said. "We have to be up in a few hours.”

Harry pushed his torso up. Both crawled to the top of the large bed, Louis in front and Harry behind. Louis chuckled when lips pecked his left arse cheek in passing.

“It’s a good thing we’re so comfortable with nudity,” Louis said.

“I’m more comfortable when nude, to be honest.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

Harry grinned at him as they folded the duvet down at the same time, Harry on the left side and Louis on the right. Louis sat down and swung his legs under the covers, Harry stacking his pillows closer to the centre of the bed. 

“Remember when we had our first sleepover?” Harry asked, his voice nothing more than a whisper. 

Louis turned on his side and tucked his right hand under his pillow, his left hand flat on the bed in front of him. A warm smile crinkled his sleepy eyes, his lashes blinking slowly.

“Yeah, of course.” He lifted his hand enough for Harry to slip under his forearm, Harry cuddling up snug to his front. Louis thumbed the dip of Harry’s spine, both smiling. “Feels like a really long time ago yet also not long at all.”

Harry nodded, “Yeah,” his hand curving around Louis’ bare hip, Louis’ fingers stroking the centre of his chest. “I know exactly what you mean.” Harry’s eyes were heavy with sleep but his face brightened to smile. “I’d never been so excited for a sleepover.”

Louis smiled wider and pressed his face into his pillow, the tips of his fingers brushing Harry’s right nipple.

“What?” Harry chuckled, his breath brushing though Louis’ damp hair. “What is it?”

“I just…” Louis shook his head for a moment, lifting his face to smile at Harry. “I don’t know what I did to...To be so lucky to have you in my life. I never imagined this for myself, but now...Now it’s like…” Louis swallowed and rested his cheek against Harry’s shoulder, Harry’s soft fingers stroking the back of his neck. “I can’t even verbalize it,” Louis said quietly, widening his eyes a touch. “And I can verbalize everything.”

Harry smiled and pulled Louis into his arms, Louis lower body on the bed with his torso sprawled over Harry’s broad chest. Louis shifted his left leg to press his inner thigh to Harry’s legs, his left hand sliding over Harry’s chest. Harry’s fingers walked down his spine, their skin still warm from their second shower.

Harry quietly said, “I think that’s love. When you can’t put into words how you feel because there are no words to describe how you feel. I think...” The ends of Harry’s lips quirked, his voice thickening. “I think that’s why I’ve never been able to verbalize as well as you do when we talk about...Us stuff.”

“Because you love me?”

Harry nodded and exhaled, his minty breath rushing over Louis cheek. 

“Yeah.”

Louis smiled, his hand flat on Harry’s cheek. He thumbed his cheekbone and leaned closer, pressing their lips together. He pulled his lips back but kept his face at the same close distance, Harry leaning closer to kiss him again.

“Goodnight, love,” Louis murmured, their lips brushing. They kissed slowly, sleep slackening their lips while their kiss wound down. Louis’ fingers curled on Harry’s cheekbone, his words airy. “My love.”

Harry’s eyes fell shut, his forehead resting against Louis’ forehead.

“Goodnight,” Harry replied. He shifted a touch lower in bed, tucking his face into Louis’ neck. “Love love.”

Louis’ eyes were closed, but he smiled and tightened his arms around Harry’s body.

“Is love love the night time equivalent of good good morning?”

Harry smiled against Louis’ neck.

“Mmhmm.” 

Louis rubbed between Harry’s shoulder blades.

“What baked good is going to go with it?”

“Hmm…” Harry’s hum lingered in his vocal fry. “Love Love Linzer Tarts?”

“Mmm, yes. Love those.”

“Love Love Lollipops, maybe?”

“Penis shaped?”

“I was thinking hearts, but it could be a series of shapes. Although,” Harry nuzzled his neck, “I kind of want to keep that for just us.”

“Love love, you mean?”

Harry nodded and snuggled closer.

“Yeah.”

Louis stroked the back of his hair, ghosting his fingertips behind his ear. He kissed Harry’s forehead.

“Whatever you want, love love,” Louis said. Harry’s head tilted up, their lips lightly pressing together. “Sleep well.”

. . .

[One In A Lifetime - One Direction](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fPdaxcwhEag)

Harry loved hotels for as long as he could remember.

He loved hotels when he was a kid. His mum would let him and Gemma run around the hallways in only their bathing suits and flip flops, searching desperately for the damp chlorine smell of an indoor pool. He loved seeing the different brands of toiletries from around the world; making mental notes about which hotel chains provided towels that were large enough for human use. Not having to think about washing his sheets or making the bed was a simple, but pleasant, stress release, though he did try to keep a neat hotel room (and sometimes made the bed himself if time permitted).

He had never loved hotels as much as the moment he opened his eyes that morning. 

The room was quiet, almost too quiet, the dull hum of the room’s ventilation kicking on. He expected to hear a car alarm or a neighbour flouncing down three flights of stairs, a flatmate forgetting to turn the kettle off or the ring of his alarm tone. Instead of those abrasive sounds, he heard Louis inhaling and exhaling through his nose, tiny brushes of warm air fluttering far enough from Louis’ nose to ruffle the pillowcase in front of his cheek. 

Harry blinked twice before opening his eyes. He found himself to be face to face with Louis, their noses nearly touching. The top half of Louis’ face was shielded by his shiny, messy hair, the bottom half sunken into the fluff of his overstuffed pillow. Louis’ pouted, pink lips stood out from the bleakness of the sheets, dark stubble starting to show on his chin and neck and a light flush colouring his high cheekbones.

Harry watched the easy rise and fall of his bare shoulder. Louis was curled on his right side towards the centre of the bed, his left hand flat on the mattress. His fingers brushed Harry’s stomach with each breath he took. There was something hypnotizing by the smoothness of Louis’ arms, lines of lean muscle and hidden strength resting underneath his supple skin. 

He ghosted his fingers over the back of Louis’ folded arm, watching goosebumps rise to meet his touch. He would happily admit his obsession with the tiny wrinkles that formed on the juncture between Louis’ shoulder and upper ribs, especially when Louis was in a position such as that morning. 

Harry reached for Louis’ wrist and stroked from the bony top to the thin underside. Their pulses fluttered together on his fingertips, Harry keeping his touch extra soft on such thin, important skin.

Important. Louis was important to him. He was important to Louis. They were important to each other. It seemed like an understatement to think of Louis as simply important to him when the mere thought of Louis made his heart race and swell with such a gushing warmth, with such uncontrollable joy.

They had a grocery budget (that Harry tried his very best to stick to). They shared hotel rooms. The might even rent a car together someday. They were going to live together, just the two of them. They loved each other. 

They were each other’s first serious, adult relationship, yet Harry felt almost boyish watching Louis sleep. Every night they spent together felt like the night before a big childhood event, when excitement and disbelief that the next day would actually happen made it hard to sleep or stop smiling. Then, when he woke up and saw Louis was there, it was like every morning was the morning his dad took him to his first proper football match, or the first time he went to the beach with his mum and Gemma. 

Harry traced over the small, round bone that stood out from Louis’ delicate wrist, moving lower to touch the fleshy bit of his hand between his index finger and thumb. 

Even though it wasn’t the first morning they woke up together, that same level of excitement hit him when he saw Louis, his boyfriend, sleeping beside him. Louis, who liked all of his weird quirks and made changes in his own habits to accommodate Harry’s strange schedule and seemed to get happier when Harry was happy. Because he loved him. Because this amazing, brilliant, hysterical, beautiful person snoozing in their shared hotel bed loved him.

Was Louis dreaming about him? Did he ever wake up early to watch Harry sleep and ponder what was going on in his head? Did he feel the strangest, most exquisite sort of comfort knowing that he had a boyfriend to share a bed with, to share his secrets with, to share a life with?

He ran the pads of his fingers over his knuckles, landing on top of Louis’ ring finger.

“I’m gonna marry you one day, if you’ll have me,” he whispered, brushing his index finger in a smooth line where a ring would appear on Louis’ hand. “I’d marry you tomorrow. I’d marry you today. At brunch, if you’d like. It doesn’t matter if we get married today or tomorrow or the next day. No matter what, I’m going to spend my whole life loving you. Making you happy. Every surprise.” He used his thumb to trace the same spot. “Every adventure.” His hand gently curled over Louis’ fingers. “Every day of our lives.”

Louis continued his rhythmic breathing and small puffs of air. The metallic sound of the ice machine down the hall took the place of Louis’ reply. A quiet, wet laugh barked out of Harry’s throat; it sounded like a robot talking. He blinked rapidly, lifting his hand and moving his fingers towards Louis’ hair.

Louis hummed, his body lulling forward to chase after Harry’s warmth. His sleepy movement resulted in a weak slap of his hand against Harry’ upper stomach, almost like a drunk kitten’s punch.

Harry stifled a laugh and replaced his hand over Louis’ hand. He shifted closer, extending his arm along the top of Louis’ pillow. He eased his arm behind Louis' shoulders and around his back. It took five breaths for Louis’ nose to twitch, his face sliding down his pillow to nosedive on Harry’s nipple. Harry bit his bottom lip and grinned, adjusting Louis’ body with as much gentleness as he could to rest his cheek on his chest.

Louis hummed again and wrapped his arm over Harry’s stomach. His limp fingers curled on Harry’s ribs, his cheek rubbing the front of his shoulder. 

Harry sent the ceiling a blissful smile. Just listening to the sounds their bodies made in the stiff, professionally laundered sheets made him so happy he nearly passed out. He thumbed the back of Louis’ arm, his toes curling under the covers and his smile growing. 

He was so blissed out that he missed the tiny flutter of Louis’ eyelashes opening against his skin and the even tinier smile that curved Louis’ lips, Louis’ ring finger twitching.

Harry stroked between Louis’ shoulderblades, Louis inhaling deeply through his nose and bicycling his feet against the mattress. Louis rubbed his cheek back and forth, his fingers sliding under Harry’s body to tuck in the small of his back. 

Louis shifted his head to look up, his chin pressing into Harry’s pec. He smiled sleepily, blinking slow and lethargic. 

“Good morning,” Harry whispered, his voice still deep from sleep, their smiles growing together. He carded his fingers through the back of Louis’ hair. “Sleep well?”

Louis nodded and lowered his cheek to Harry’s chest, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Slept great.” His iPhone alarm started, both chuckling quietly. “For all of the five hours we were asleep.”

Harry reached across Louis’ back and tapped the front of the screen. He yawned, keeping his arm on top of Louis. Louis turned onto his back, his arms bent at the elbow and resting on his pillow, Harry’s arm heavy over his stomach. He rolled his ankle to brush their toes together, both smiling wider. 

“What shall we do this weekend?” Louis asked. “After brunch with your mum, of course.”

“Hmm.” 

“Sex? Lots of it? Please?”

Harry’s eyebrows wiggled, his voice dropping to a low purr.

“Don’t you mean love making?”

Louis rolled his eyes, a smile fighting its way onto his face. Harry flattened half on top of him, kissing along the top his shoulder. Harry’s face nuzzled into his neck and Louis smiled properly, gripping the back of Harry’s hair.

“Yeah,” Louis admitted, tilting his face towards Harry. Harry gave him a soft kiss, Louis’ hand tightening in his hair. “That, too.”

“I promise to never say love making aloud to anyone but you,” Harry whispered over his cheekbone. He kissed beside his eye, his fingers ghosting between Louis’ cheeks. “And to always balance out soppy, slow times with good old fashioned fucking.”

“Sweeter words have never been spoken.”

Harry grinned and planted three loud kisses down the front of Louis’ neck. Louis’ phone went off again and Louis rolled towards the sound, Harry spooning him from behind. Louis peeked over his shoulder.

“Your mum is a real punctual type, yeah?”

Harry’s eyes clenched shut.

“Yes,” he groaned dramatically, pressing his face to Louis’ back. “Unfortunately.”

“We should get up. I don’t want to be late.”

Harry rolled away from him, Louis able to hear Harry fumbling around his own bedside table. Louis tapped his phone’s Home button, notifications filling his screen. There was a special sort of flutter in his stomach when he saw that friends and family texted him to congratulate Harry on his big night or to thank him for the after party. There was a line of texts from Simon and an unknown number. 

“Um, so,” Harry said, his voice going deeper, “did Gordon Ramsay and Simon bring us into a group chat?” 

Louis turned onto his back, staring up at his phone. The blankets were tight around his lower hips, his small belly sticking out of the green and white fabric.

“I...Think so?” He scrolled for a moment. “I have no idea who that number is, but the language makes me think it’s Gordon Ramsay.”

“Wild,” Harry chuckled, shaking his head. He brought his fingers to Louis’ bare stomach, watching his fingertips touch Louis’ smooth, tan skin. “This all is so wild.”

“Did you get loads of messages?”

“Yeah,” Harry admitted quietly. He glanced up at Louis’ knowing smile. “I have some voicemails and emails from new people. People I met at the awards.”

“Good.” Louis laced his fingers with Harry’s, resting their joined hands on his stomach. He rolled his head along his pillow and smiled. “I’m so happy for you.”

Harry’s dimple popped, Louis squeezing his hand.

“Thank you.”

Louis dropped his phone onto the table and flopped onto his stomach, nudging his face against Harry’s upper ribs.

“What happened to getting up?” Harry chuckled, wrapping his arm around Louis’ shoulders. 

“I need, like, two more minutes of this before I can will myself out of bed.”

Harry rubbed Louis’ outer bicep and hummed.

“Sounds good to me.”

Louis walked two of his fingers up Harry’s stomach, tapping over the fronts of his ribs.

“I’ll forward you the texts and emails people sent me to congratulate you,” Louis murmured, his eyes growing heavy. “I...I didn’t get the message we’ve been hoping for, but...I guess we’ll have to wait a bit longer.”

Harry squeezed him.

“Leasing agents are so fussy.”

Louis smiled, rubbing his cheek against Harry’s chest.

“Psh. You’re telling me.”

“It’s the weekend. He probably won’t be in office until Monday. And even if we don’t get the dream place, we’ll find a place eventually. No worries.”

The phone alarm went off again, Louis groaning and clenching his eyes shut. He pushed himself off of Harry to silence the alarm, then stretched on his back. He blinked at the dark flatscreen and propped an arm behind his head, turning his face towards Harry.

“In our new bedroom, do you want a telly in the room?”

Harry rolled up on his forearm, the duvet slinking below his hip dents.

“Not particularly, no. You don’t have one now, I don’t have one now. Why would we get one to live together?”

Louis smiled mischievously.

“You mean you don’t want to watch all my horrible shows before bed every night?”

“No,” Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “I like to keep my bedroom as tech-free as possible.”

“Hippie. How will you deal with my love of hidden phone chargers and Bluetooth?”

Harry fluttered his eyelashes and flopped the back of his hand on his forehead.

“I’ll manage, somehow.”

Louis grinned.

“I agree about the telly. I don’t want one in our bedroom. I’d rather have one in the living room to keep the function of each room separate. I think it would help with sleep quality, don’t you?” 

Harry propped his face up on his left hand and stroked Louis’ nearest hip. He dragged his index finger around Louis’ navel, his smile growing.

“What?” Louis laughed, his stomach trembling. 

“I love that you called it our new bedroom,” Harry said softly. He circled the sensitive circle of skin again, stroking over the downy hair leading below the small swell of Louis’ stomach to under the duvet. “Our bedroom. Our.”

Louis bit his bottom lip.

“That gives me a little jolt, too.”

“Yeah?” Harry leaned closer, pressing his lips to Louis’ hip bone. “A little jolt?”

“A big jolt,” Louis admitted, his lashes fanning over his cheekbones. “I’m so,” Harry kissed the inwards curve between his hip and ribs, Louis shakily exhaling, “excited,” on a high sigh. 

Harry kissed him there again, snuffled quietly as he dragged his lips over the spot. Louis arched his hips sideways, another half-laugh pulled from his body.

“I can’t believe you shared the whole L Mix with me,” Louis said, his eyes shining. He laced his fingers in Harry’s hair, massaging his scalp and playing with the thick strands. “The whole thing. I haven’t even had a chance to read all the titles, it’s such a long mix.”

Harry turned his head to press his face against Louis’ ribs.

“Yeah,” he chuckled breathily.

“It’s...So many love songs.”

Harry nodded, whispering, “Yeah,” and kissing the sensitive spot again, smiling at Louis’ quiet shudder.

“And you added them to the playlist, like…” Louis bit the inside of his bottom lip, his smile pulling his lip from his teeth. “Months ago.”

Harry’s eyes looked feline from the angle of his face, bashfulness colouring his smile.

“I told you. I’ve loved you for so long.”

“I have, too.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked, pleased as punch.

“Mmhmm.” Louis let his fingers brush the back of Harry’s neck, Harry still drawing light circles over his stomach. “I...I might have a playlist to share with you later.”

The circles to his stomach slowed.

“What?” Harry asked, his voice deep but curious. He lifted his head, his ears practically standing up like a Doberman. “You have a playlist, too?”

Louis smiled and stretched his arms to the headboard. 

“Maybe.”

Harry’s enormous eyes grew even larger.

“Do you have an H Mix?”

“Technically,” Louis’ nose crinkled, “it might be called the Har-Remix.”

Harry’s face lit up, his jaw dropped.

“Oh my God. Please, can I…” He pulled himself up to Louis’ level, kissing from collarbone to collarbone. He propped his chin on the centre of Louis’ chest. “Will you please let me see it?”

Louis shook his head, giggling out, “No.”

“No!?” Harry laughed.

“Not yet.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, his lips set in a grumpy pout.

“Why not?”

Louis swirled his hand in the air.

“I need to rearrange it first. It’s not as well organized as yours.”

“I don’t care about that! I just want to see the songs!”

Louis shook his head again.

“Nope.” He smiled sweetly and shrugged his shoulders, Harry’s pout deepening. “You’re not getting it from me yet. You know almost all my secrets. You can wait a few days for this one.”

Harry thought for a moment, studying Louis.

“Did you make it before or after the L Mix?”

Louis’ eyes sparkled, his teeth sneaking out in a little smile before he pursed his lips, shaking his head.

“Not telling.”

“Please?” Harry tried, sweetening his low tone and batting his eyelashes. He pouted his lips forward, his eyes so wide Louis had to grip the sheets not to be sucked into a plush, mint green wonderland. Harry clasped his hands in front of him. “Pretty, pretty please?”

Louis’ serious face melted into a giggling mess.

“Would you believe it if I said I added my first song on the day you added your first song?”

“No,” Harry gasped, truly shocked. His eyes bulged as his brows furrowed, his mouth agape. “You’re serious?”

“I’m serious.”

“That’s…”

“Yeah,” Louis laughed, breathy and light. “I guess we...I guess we were on the same page, even back then on--”

“The twelfth of January,” they said together.

Both chuckled, their breathing a touch shaky.

“Wow,” Harry whispered, shaking his head. He rubbed his palm in circles over Louis’ stomach. “That’s...That’s crazy. Incredible. But also kind of crazy.” 

“It is.”

Harry kissed his right nipple. He kept his lips pouted forward when he lifted them from Louis’ skin, Harry’s eyelashes batting slowly.

“Can I have even just one song?”

Louis laughed and shook his head, his left hand stretching to the headboard.

“Not yet, love. Your mix was so beautiful. I need to up my game.”

Harry’s fingers crawled sideways over the softness of Louis’ abs to settle in the dip between his ribs and hip.

“You know what you do need to tell me?”

“What--Hey!” Louis’ eyes widened as he gasped an uncontrollable smile, his hands pushing at Harry’s gently prodding fingers. “What!?”

Harry smiled wider and dug in on the sensitive spot, Louis’ gasps turning to quick, bubbly giggles. 

“How much I owe you for my mum’s hotel room.”

Louis kicked at his feet.

“Never,” Louis gasped mid-laugh, horrified. He flipped onto his stomach on top of Harry, which only made Harry squeeze both hands up Louis’ sides, holding him to his body. “I will never tell you that! You’re not giving me any money!”

Harry innocently asked, “Oh no?”

Louis pressed his face into Harry’s neck as he barked loud belly laughs, their limbs sending the bedding flying as they squirmed. His phone vibrated on the bedside table.

“We need to get up! We need--” Louis grabbed a pillow and walloped the side of Harry’s head with it. Harry’s hold loosened, growling as he huffed laughs. “We need to see your mum and eat brunch!”

Harry chased after him, his hands reaching for Louis’ arse. Louis lifted another pillow and dropped it on the back of Harry’s head, throwing himself onto Harry’s body and straddling his waist. 

“You’re in trouble now,” Louis taunted, mercilessly digging his fingers into Harry’s sides just beside his nipples. Harry laughed and spasmed under him, the pillow thrown off his head. He bucked his upper body off the bed and Louis went flying to the bottom of the mattress. Louis felt Harry’s hands wrap around his ankles before he even fully hit the bed, already giggling, “Oi! You little,” his body was pulled up the mattress with ease, “you little sh-shit!”

. . .

Anne tilted her wrist upwards. Her delicate fingers framed the round face of her rose gold watch. A small smile ghosted over her face, her head shaking side to side. She folded her hands on the white table cloth, crossing her chocolate riding boots under the table. She sipped her tea, her eyes drawn to the door of the hotel restaurant.

Two familiar figures came inside, their hands clasped and their arms close enough that no light could be seen between their bodies. Their faces were soft and smiling, their motions lethargic.

She smiled and stood from the table.

“Lovely of you two to join me,” she said, smiling wider, her hands on her hips and a playful lilt to her voice. “I thought we were having brunch, not dinner?”

Their legs sped up, Anne’s arms opening with a quiet laugh.

“So sorry we’re late,” Louis said, reaching her first. He kissed her right cheek and hugged her, Harry enveloping her from the other side. They smelled of hotel shampoo, fresh and soapy, their hair damp. “We lost track of time.”

“It’s alright, darlings, it’s alright. I’m just teasing.” She patted both of their backs. “You’re about half a minute late. It’s not the end of the world.”

“Morning, mum,” Harry said, kissing her left cheek. “You look really pretty.” He touched the sleeve of her oversized floral blouse, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. “This is nice.”

“You really are so pretty,” Louis added.

Anne squeezed him tighter. 

“Thank you, boys.” She patted both of their cheeks and sat back down, Louis and Harry sitting across from her. She watched them pick up their burgundy leather menus, propping her own menu on her lap. She tried to hold back her laughter to say, “Nice ensembles,” but a tiny giggle escaped.

Harry and Louis looked each other over. 

Their suits were a touch wrinkled, their hair sticking up from a quick attempt at styling with the hotel provided combs. Harry’s shirt was buttoned only until the middle of his chest, Louis’ buttons done incorrectly with his shirt gapped just above his navel. They both had bags under their eyes, the skin around Harry’s mouth reddened and swollen, a small bite forming beneath Louis’ right ear. 

They smiled at each other with the same sort of love-drunk, lazy comfort that radiated from them as they entered the room.

“Yeah, we, erm,” Louis adjusted his collar, chuckling sheepishly. “Didn’t think this through.”

“We should have seen about having one of the guys bring us clothes, but weren’t really thinking straight.” Harry smoothed his hand down the front of his black button down. He snuck another look at Louis. “We’re a bit formal for brunch.”

Anne grinned, and looked back down to her menu.

“You both look smashing.”

Louis read over the list of brunch offerings, ranging from gourmet pancakes to a variety of Eggs Benedict combinations. The menu even included one very tempting version of Eggs Benedict that included fresh crab meat instead of ham. 

He tried to keep his eyes on his menu, but found himself involuntarily looking to the right. He studied Harry’s eyes moving over his menu. He watched Harry squeeze his mother’s hand on top of the table. He saw Harry smile at something the waiter said as he filled their water glasses. He observed Harry’s full lips moving in word shapes, the motions slower than even his regular tempo of speech.

“Louis?”

Louis blinked quickly, the sound of the crowded dining room buzzing back into his ears. He sucked an emergency breath in through his nose, ordering oxygen to resume flowing through his body.

“Yeah? I mean,” Louis cleared his throat, “yes?” 

Harry smiled and nodded at the menu, seemingly unaware of the visual feast he provided Louis with for the last five minutes.

“What are you thinking of?” Harry’s brows arched. “To eat?”

“Um,” Louis’ eyes went back to the menu, the brunch foods as jumbled as alphabet soup, “maybe the Crab Benedict. Or the Pear Pancakes.”

“That sounds amazing. The Crab Benedict,” Anne said, still studying her menu. She folded her menu closed. “I think I’m going to get that.”

“Really?” Harry asked, still reading. His tongue darted out to lick the corner of his mouth. “I figured you’d get the cranberry orange pancakes.” He closed his menu and smiled across the table at his mother. “You always get the crazy fruity pancake combinations.”

“Says Mister Banana Pancakes himself,” Anne chuckled.

Louis faintly heard them chatting about the other breakfast offerings. He was aware of Harry fixing his cup of tea for him, but felt as if his lungs were not functioning. He took science classes in school; he knew how the respiratory system worked. Air in, air out, repeat. Yet he stared at Harry’s mouth as if he needed to suck the air out of him to avoid passing out in the middle of the restaurant.

“Here you are,” Harry said, sliding Louis’ tea in front of him. 

“I love you. I mean--” Louis’ face twitched. “Th-Thank you,” he quickly amended, avoiding Anne’s smiley stare. He sank lower in his seat and stared at the cup of steaming hot liquid, able to feel Harry grinning at him. “Thanks.”

Harry’s hand flattened on his inner thigh.

“We’re a bit tired,” he said to his mum, squeezing above Louis’ knee. Anne’s eyes crinkled over the rim of her white tea cup, Harry adding, “Late night and all.”

. . .

They filed onto the train together and located two side by side seats. The train was not terribly crowded, mostly families milling about amongst some hungover riders. Louis sat down and blew air through his rounded lips.

“Seat’s cold. Yikes,” he shivered, lifting his arse. He wiggled his bum back on the seat, tugging down the legs of his trousers. “Like an ice block on my arse.”

Harry yawned beside him, shielding his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“I know,” Harry said, relaxing his arms at his sides. “We’ll have to start carrying backup pants at all times incase we have a surprise hotel stay.”

Louis squinted at him.

“What?”

“I’m...” Harry started to laugh, keeping his speaking voice extra quiet. “I’m not wearing anything.” He leaned closer and whispered, “Underwear, I mean.”

Louis’ brows shot up, his sudden laughter like a machine gun out of his wide smile. He muffled his mouth with both hands, his tired eyes suddenly wide awake.

“What!?” he whispered.

Harry giggled, “What? I didn’t want to put my old ones one after we showered and stuff.”

“I’m not wearing any, either.”

“I know.”

“We both free-balled for brunch with your mum? What’s the matter with us? I lost mine in the room somewhere. What’d you do with yours?”

“I hid them in the bin in the toilet.”

That pulled more shaking giggles from Louis, his head tilting back.

“When the maid finds your pants in the trash, mine lost wherever they are, and an empty tube of lube, she’s going to think we somehow combusted mid-coitus, leaving no evidence behind but our pants. Maybe we were abducted by horny aliens.”

“Well, yours are, um,” Harry’s smile lifted higher on his left side, his teeth snagging a tiny bite of his inner bottom lip, “not lost.”

Louis studied him for a moment, the train vibrating beneath him. A light went on in his head.

“Oh my God, do you--” Louis’ eyes dropped to Harry’s trousers. He brought his lips to Harry’s ear, whispering, “Are you wearing my underwear?”

“Nope,” Harry said, guiding Louis’ hand to his right pants pocket. Louis felt a small bulge of folded fabric. “They’re safe.”

Louis fell into Harry, laughing harder, Harry’s shoulder muffling his loud laughter. Harry’s arm curled around him, the expensive material of his suit pleasant against Louis’ cheek.

“You’re the best person I’ve ever met,” Louis giggled, smiling up at him with sparkling eyes. “You make me laugh the most.”

Harry smiled and leaned down, softly kissing Louis’ lips.

“I’m glad.”

Louis shook his head while smiling at Harry. He rested his head on Harry’s shoulder, crossing his leg towards Harry.

“You alright?” Harry asked, gently squeezing Louis’ knee. “You were a bit out of it at brunch.”

Louis rubbed the back of his hand over his right eyelid.

“I think I’m still recovering from last night.” He peered at Harry with one eye. “And our afterparty for the afterparty.”

Harry’s grin spread slowly across his face.

“Last night was…” He squeezed Louis’ hand, letting his head fall back against his seat. “The best night.”

Louis lifted Harry’s hand, dropping a quick kiss on his knuckles. Their hands nestled between their outer thighs.

“I agree.”

“Wanna have a kip when we get home?”

“Yes, please.” Louis rubbed his other eyelid with the back of his hand. His chest puffed out, his jawline going crooked to stifle a yawn. “A very long kip. And a major lie in tomorrow. We need to take advantage of your weekend off.”

“Done.”

“Where was the ceremony?”

Louis opened both eyes, Harry turning his head towards the sound. The question was directed at them in the most curious, grandmotherly way from an older woman seated next to Harry, a round red hat perched on her snow white hair. Harry smiled at her.

“The Savoy Hotel,” he said.

“Ooh la la,” she said, laughing lightly. Her tinkled laugh was of a woman much younger than herself, the paper-thin skin beside her blue eyes wrinkling. She gently elbowed Harry’s side. “Aren’t we posh?”

Harry and Louis both laughed. 

“Did you enjoy yourselves, loves?” she asked.

“Yes, it was wonderful,” Louis said, Harry nodding beside him. “Best night we’ve ever had.”

“Good, good. So many couples get all wrapped up in everything, they barely have time to eat and drink, themselves!”

Harry and Louis exchanged slightly confused smiles, but nodded along with her. The old woman started to stand, reaching for a metal pole with red lace gloves, the knit of the lace so fine it almost looked like solid fabric. Harry offered his arm and helped her stand. She patted his hand, her kind eyes moving between them.

“Congratulations and all the best to you both. May you have many happy days together.”

Their confusion grew as they watched her hobble to the doors. The doors slid open, a fresh batch of people entering the train. 

“I wonder how she knew we went to a ceremony,” Harry said, feeling the front of his inner jacket pocket. “Did she, like, see the outline of the medals in my pocket?”

“Maybe she reads food blogs or something. Or maybe she’s a customer.”

“That must be it.”

The doors closed, people shifting around to find seats. Louis crossed his leg towards Harry, Harry’s weight leaning against Louis’ shoulder.

“Excuse me?”

They looked to the portly, middle-aged man who slid into the seat beside Louis. Neither had ever experienced such chatty tube travelers; Louis’ rush hour work schedule usually led to silent, tense journeys each day with sullen-faced business people, while Harry traveled to work during such strange off hours that he was often by himself (and asleep).

“Yes?” Louis asked, tilting his head with a small smile. 

The man stared at them for a moment, then brought his fist to his lips, inhaling deeply through his nose. Louis’ eyes moved sideways towards Harry without shifting his head, Harry’s doing the same motion to peer at him.

“I heard what that woman said to you,” the man said, pushing his round wire glasses up his nose. “And I didn’t want to assume, but after hearing your conversation, I just…” 

His voice grew thick, his fist pressing to his mouth again. Harry’s eyes grew more concerned and he opened his lips, his hand reaching forward towards the man. 

“Are you alright, sir?” Louis asked gently.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. I…My son came out to me and my wife about a week ago. He’s just turned sixteen. And he was,” the man’s throat bobbed, Louis’ brows arching and Harry’s head tilting curiously, “terrified to tell us and so upset and we didn’t understand why, but,” he flicked his hand in the air beside his ear, “that’s neither here nor there.”

“I just wanted to say that seeing you two together,” his round face broke into a beatific smile, “it gives me hope that my son will someday find someone to love him as much as my wife and I do.” He patted Louis’ shoulder and stood up, the train swaying to a halt. “Congratulations to the both of you. I think it’s absolutely wonderful. All the best.”

Louis and Harry watched the man walk to the door, a sweat stain beginning to show between his thick shoulders, his navy blue polo darkened. His overstuffed wallet stuck out from his pocket and his jeans were accidentally tucked into his left white tube sock, some standard marks of a being a father. 

As more people filtered on and off, Louis and Harry remained silent, both staring straight ahead. A group of women, all around forty in age, walked past them, one leaning down to wink and say, “Congratulations, love birds.”

Another woman teased, “Where’s the honeymoon?” as she passed.

Louis and Harry smiled at her, though both were confused, their faces scrunched. 

“Alright, they can’t all be Helena’s customers,” Harry said once the group passed. “I work there. I know who our customers are, and these people are not customers. What on Earth are they talking about?”

“Harry.”

Harry’s head turned towards Louis, his brows arched.

“What?”

“They…” Louis held his gaze for a long beat. “I think they...” He gestured between their chests, a slow smile lifting the corners of his lips. “Because we’re dressed like this, I think they think we’re…” He laughed lightly, his pitch rising. “That we got married last night.”

“Oh,” Harry breathed.

“Yeah.”

“That’s…” Harry’s rounded lips started to smile. “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Louis repeated, chuckling. "Uh. Interesting, yeah?”

Harry opened his mouth, his smile both confused and blazing, but a bubbly voice interrupted. 

“Oh, you didn’t? Sad!”

They looked towards a pair of teenage girls sitting two seats away from Harry. Their hair was dyed jet black with matching pink streaks, their clothes colourful, studded and wild, as if they were still ready to party from the night before. One set of white earbuds was shared between them, a small diamond stud glinting on one girl’s nose and a cup of black iced coffee dripping condensation in the other girl’s hands.

“We totally thought you did,” the iced coffee girl said, shrugging. She swirled her fingers in the air, small droplets of water released from her fingers. The water drops landed on an older man reading the news next to them, his sigh ruffling the thin paper. “You’ve got that just hitched sort of glow thing going on.” Harry and Louis’ eyes widened, but before they could reply her face lit up, her hand clutching nose ring girl’s thigh. “Oh! You should stay in those clothes and go around town, trying to convince people you’re newlyweds to get freebies.”

“Oh, yeah!” nose ring said, sitting up straighter. “Maybe you can get a free meal out of the deal! Pretend to propose to each other or something. Or just tell people about your wedding! People love a good wedding story.”

“Do they?” Louis asked. 

“They do when the grooms are cute as fuck,” iced coffee girl said, smiling cheerfully.

“That’s a good idea,” Harry said, he and Louis stifling laughs. Their fingers linked. The girls grinned at them, both tilting their heads to the right in a scarily similar motion. Harry thumbed over Louis’ knuckles. “I never thought of that.”

The train stopped and the girls hopped up from their seats. They both smiled at Harry and Louis and flicked their large black sunglasses down from their hair in unison. Their colourful clothes faded into the conglomeration of other people going in and out of the train, the old man beside them turning a page on his newspaper. 

“Wrinkled suits really make people think we’re married?” Harry asked, his right foot stepping on the arch of his left boot. “How bizarre.”

“I think it’s our,” Louis fluttered his fingers in the air and swayed his head, “glow.”

Harry chuckled and adjusted himself in his trousers, shifting on the hard bench.

“I feel pretty grimey right now. Not so much glowy.”

“I know. Hotel products make my skin feel both dry and waxy, plus my suit needs a deep clean after last night.”

“Yes, that’s exactly it!”

Louis leaned in and smelled Harry’s collar.

“You don’t smell grimey. Smell lovely, actually. That said, I,” he sniffed again, his nose brushing Harry’s neck, “do miss your normal sugar plum scent.”

Harry’s dimple deepened as he smiled, his head leaning to the right.

“It’ll be back soon enough.”

Louis shifted his face to rest his temple on Harry’s shoulder, their hands linked between their thighs.

“Do you really think businesses give out freebies to newlyweds?” Louis asked, their bodies bumping up from the train. “Maybe we could get free iced coffees on the walk home from our usual place.”

“Dunno. I’ve,” Harry smiled wider, “never been a newlywed.” He felt Louis huffing quiet laughter, his small body shuddering against his side. “We should have told the hotel we were newlyweds. We could have gotten into the Newlywed Suite with even more furniture for you to fuck me on.”

The newspaper man loudly turned a page and muttered to himself, Louis cackling and gently knocking his forehead against Harry’s shoulder.

“Ah, but one issue,” Louis said, clicking air between his back teeth. He lifted his hands and turned the backs of them to Harry, wiggling his straightened fingers. “No rings. They’d see right through our masquerade. Bye bye, iced coffees.”

Harry smiled and dropped his gaze to his lap. He dug into his left trouser pocket, his face scrunching slightly, Louis sitting up straight.

The red ribbon from his business card gift emerged from Harry’s pocket, the end of the ribbon curled in his large palm. Harry pinched the ribbon between his fingers and pulled it taught. He brought the ribbon to his mouth and bit the centre, his front teeth teeth ripping the ribbon in half.

He kept one piece of ribbon tucked in his hand and placed the other piece of ribbon in his lap. His fingertips gently pressed into the top of Louis’ left hand, his thumb rubbing along Louis’ fleshy palm. He lifted Louis’ left hand to chest height and glanced at his face, a smile crinkling his eyes. Louis was confused but smirking with his lips closed, watching Harry unfurl the ribbon.

Harry wrapped the length of ribbon around the finger beside Louis’ pinky. The tip of his tongue peeked out of his lips as he carefully tied a tiny bow. He pulled his hands back and smiled, keeping his face down. He smoothed the pad of his thumb over the ribbon and spun it until the bow was on top of Louis’ knuckle, the pointy prickle of the bow’s edges scratching beneath his thumb. 

Without prompting, Louis picked up the piece of ribbon in Harry’s lap. He took Harry’s left hand in his, the tips of Harry’s fingers trembling against Louis’ smaller hands. Louis turned his hand over and wrapped the ribbon around Harry’s ring finger. 

Though Louis’ fingers were dexterous in many ways, he had not spent the last ten years of his life working in bakeries and tying ribbons around boxes of cookies. He faltered with tying such a small bow, Harry breathily chuckling and trying to hold his hand still.

Louis let out a similar breathy sound from his nostrils. He got it on the third try. His bow was not as symmetrical as the one Harry tied, but the ribbon was secured around Harry’s ring finger. 

Harry held his hand out in front of them, his head leaning on Louis’ shoulder. His ribbon ring was smooth, the bow underneath his finger, while Louis’ bow was on top of his finger. Louis held his hand beside Harry’s, their fingers straight, the red ribbons standing out from their skin. 

“I never thought about what it’d look like,” Louis said softly, tilting his head. “A ring there.”

A beat passed.

“I have.”

Louis smiled without looking at Harry, both staring at their makeshift wedding bands.

“Can you imagine?” Louis asked, even softer.

Harry nodded, his voice caught in his throat. He swallowed and linked his thumb over Louis’ pinky finger.

“I can.”

Louis’ smile went so wide his eyes closed, Harry’s deep, rough voice melting in his ears and Harry’s body heat blazing along his entire side. He held onto Harry’s hand and spun his ribbon until the messy bow was on top of his finger, bopping the bow with his thumb.

“And who was the groom attached to your imaginary wedding bands, hm?” Louis asked, spinning the ring around until the smooth ribbon was on top. “Did you only see a floating hand? Like a hand lotion commercial?”

Harry turned his head right, a tiny nibble of his bottom lip snagged between his teeth. His quiff was wilted towards his ear, the longer bits of his hair curling against the bottom of his neck. He brought his honeyed gaze from Louis’ mouth to his eyes.

“No, I saw the whole groom.” The left side of his lips rose to reveal his teeth, Louis’ face flushing under his heated, rapt stare. Harry’s eyes dropped to Louis’ mouth before rising, their eyes locked. Lower, he murmured, “Am looking at him right now.”

Louis’ eyebrows rose, an amused smirk curving his lips to match Harry’s growing smile. For a moment, the only noise between them was the murmuring of nearby passengers and the clunky bumps of the train. His respiratory system failed him at brunch and his nervous system had abandoned ship for their train ride, his brain fizzing rainbows inside his head. 

“Are you--” Louis’ mouth moved silently for a moment. “Are you proposing to me?” His voice was higher and airier than usual, a brighter pink flush racing up the front of his neck. He let out an involuntary laugh and quickly licked his lips, gesturing to their surroundings with their joined hands. “On the train? With,” Louis tilted their fingers towards himself and chuckled, “recycled rubbish as our wedding rings? That’s so very you.”

Harry’s dimples deepened and his cheeks rounded, the skin beside his eyes wrinkling. He squeezed Louis’ hand.

“We’ll get there, love.”

. . .

“You sure do know how to pack a lunch, Hot Legs.”

Harry smiled at Zayn with his lips shut, a bite of turkey sandwich in his mouth. He ran his fingers through Louis’ hair. Louis happily munched on his brie, apple and honey sandwich, the back of his head resting on Harry’s inner thigh and his grey beanie slouched beside Harry’s knee. He and Louis rested comfortably on their large red and white checkered blanket, Harry sitting on the corner with his legs stretched along the edge, Louis’ legs bent at the knee. 

“Glad you approve. I love a good sandwich,” Harry said, taking another bite. He chewed for a moment, watching an orange butterfly land on Louis’ right knee. “This might be one of our last chances to run around outside before the weather gets chilly. We might as well feast.”

“Adore the way you think. Always and forever,” Niall said, a tiny piece ham tumbling from his mouth. He was sprawled on his stomach across the blanket, swaying his retro white trainers in the air. He lifted a bottle of fizzy pear juice and took a swig. “Good beverage choices, too.”

“I don’t want it to get cold again,” Louis whined, putting a sob into his voice. He straightened his legs and rubbed his black Vans together, the butterfly taking off. He crossed his ankles, his grey sweat shorts riding up over his knees. “I hate coats. They’re so restrictive.”

Liam sat back on his heels and handed Zayn half of his turkey sandwich. He patted Louis’ bare ankle.

“You really do. Coats and socks.”

“I love coats,” Harry said, still running his fingers through Louis’ hair. “And socks, actually.”

Liam looked to his right, Zayn sitting at his side. Zayn’s lips quirked as he chewed.

“They do say opposites attract,” Liam said, both men sharing a smile.

Louis grinned up at Harry, his black aviators crooked. Harry leaned over and pecked the tip of his nose, his black Ray Bans falling off his face to land in Louis’ neck. 

There was a chorus of vomiting noises, Louis’ fake puking sounds among the loudest. Harry laughed and shifted to lie on his back on the blanket. The side of his head rested against the top of Louis’ head, their hair mixing together. Louis’ hand sought his out, their clasped fingers playing together on the blanket.

Niall moved to lay with the back of his head on Harry’s shins, Zayn and Liam sitting next to each other for the fourth side of their square, the picnic basket in the centre.

“It’s been so nice to have the entire weekend with you,” Louis said quietly, pinching Harry’s thumb. “Could get used to it.”

“You’re telling me,” Harry said, his voice strained as he stretched his legs. He released his stretch and sighed. “Thank God we hired an intern. Now I’m going to want this all the time.”

“Does anyone want the last turkey sammie?” Niall asked, wiggling his fingers towards the basket.

“Nope,” they all said.

Zayn reached inside and pulled out a foil wrapped sandwich. He tossed it to Niall, who held his hands up a second too late, the sandwich flopping on his face. Niall made a shocked, growly sound and they all laughed. Liam pulled a white box out of the basket.

“Ooh, yes! Brownies,” he cooed, placing the open box on the blanket. All five reached for them, resulting in a hand pile-up in the bakery box. Liam slapped Zayn’s hand away from his middle brownie and cradled it to his chest. “Your brownies are insane.”

“They really are the shit,” Zayn said, his hand over his mouth as he chewed. 

“Thank you,” Harry said happily.

“Would anyone judge me if I double fist?” Niall asked.

“You’re already double fisting,” Harry chuckled, bumping his legs under the back of Niall’s head. Niall smiled at him, puffy-cheeked, brownie stuffed in the right side of his mouth, sandwich stuffed in the left. “We hold no judgement.”

“Um, excuse me, but I was told there would be football today? What is this, a tea party?”

They looked up from their blanket. Damini was smirking at them, her dark hair tied in a high knot, a football balanced between her forearm and her hip. She was decked out in neon workout clothes and trainers, Ravi, Tonya and another two girls in comfortable clothes walking up behind her. She raised her eyebrows at Niall and tossed the ball at him.

Niall swallowed his entire mouthful and caught the ball, brownie crumbling off the corners of his grinning lips.

“We were just having a snack, but I love tea parties,” Niall said, hopping up. He ran towards her, enveloping her in his arms. She started to giggle, her face pressed to his neck. Niall picked her up off her feet and took off towards the pitch. “I love your stretchy trousers! Your legs are like a rainbow!”

“They’re leggings, not trousers,” she laughed, Niall swinging her in circles. “Put me down, you beast. You’re distracting me from how much I’m going to crush your arse on the pitch!”

“I am happy to do anything with you that involves my arse.”

She threw her head back to laugh as Ravi came up between them. His shadow loomed over Niall and Niall blanched, his spins slowing. He carefully placed Damini on the ground and stepped back five paces, his hands clasped in front of himself.

“Sir,” he said, nodding at Ravi.

Ravi rolled his eyes and pulled Niall into his side, rubbing his fist into his wild blond hair.

“Of all the jokers in the world, she picks you.” He laughed loudly and Niall laughed along with him, sounding a touch more unsure. “Sir. Psh.” He patted Niall’s back, sending Niall flying forward. “You’re a riot, Horan.”

At the blanket, Harry offered their new guests brownies and tea from his thermos. Liam and Zayn helped each other stretch. Louis replaced his beanie, swiping his fingers through his fringe to keep it out of his eyes.

They started a lazy kickaround, Zayn in one goal, Ravi in the other. Harry jogged next to Niall, but his body swayed as he ran. It was difficult to run in a straight line with his eyes glued to Louis dribbling with ease at the other end of the field. Damini came in from the side to steal the ball, Louis laughing and spinning to keep the ball in his possession.

“She’s better at footy than me,” Niall said, panting his words. “She’s better. At. Footy. Than me.” Harry smiled and squeezed his shoulder as they ran; he completely understood Niall’s awe. “She’s, like, amazing. We still need to go on a date, but,” Niall flopped his hand in the air, “technicalities.”

Harry laughed, bumping their shoulders together.

“Yeah. Sometimes dating first is overrated. Not for everyone.”

“Oooh,” Niall sang, fluctuating his pitch and shimmying his body. He held his arms up and started to twirl. “Love is in the air!” Harry ran in front of Niall to head a ball, Niall crying, “My hero!” and twirling Harry in place.

Harry laughed and held his flat hand above his eyes, looking down the field. Louis’ smiling face and straight, high kicking leg gave him a clue as to where the ball came from. Louis ran up to Harry and Niall, his hair fluffing up and down beneath his beanie. 

“Nice head,” Louis said, patting Harry on the bum.

“I think I heard your phone ringing before,” Harry said, stealing Louis’ beanie. Their running slowed, Harry’s legs unable to handle giggling, theft and cardio at the same time. “Not too long ago.” 

“Yeah? Alright. I’ll check.”

Louis pulled his beanie down over Harry’s face.

“Oi!” Harry squawked, another gentle slap on his bum sending him spinning.

Liam laughed, “Stick to brownies, H,” as he ran past.

Louis jogged to their picnic blanket. He bent over at Harry’s rucksack and unzipped it, searching until he felt his vibrating iPhone. He pulled out his phone and checked the screen. Something on the pitch caused everyone to burst out laughing, the ball thwacking from kick to kick, their voices all fading into one neutral chorus of chatter. 

Harry stopped running and hitched his loose black Nike shorts up on his hips. He put his hands on his thighs, his panting stomach causing his white v-neck tee to balloon away from his body. 

“Harry!”

He stood to his full height and looked towards the picnic blanket, earning a lobbed football to the side of his head. Cackles came from nearby, Liam and Zayn running away from the scene of the crime while pounding fists.

“Ow,” he laughed, rubbing his hair and glaring at them. He called to Louis, “What’s up?”

Louis held his phone out in front of himself, hopping from foot to foot, his words bubbling happily out of his shaking body.

“We got it!”

Harry could not see the screen but from Louis’ ecstatic smile and growing bounces, he knew exactly what the screen said.

“Yeah!?” Harry cried, running to the blanket, his arms outstretched. “We got the flat!?”

“We did! I just got a voicemail from our--” 

Louis squealed with laughter, Harry tackling him to the ground. Louis’ phone went flying into the air and thudded in the fresh green grass. The blanket broke their fall, Harry’s long legs tangling with the remnants of their picnic. Harry kissed his cheeks, his lips, his nose, his chin, their laughter loud and joyful, their sunglasses falling off.

“We’re going to live together!” Harry said, his face split open by his grin. “In the dream flat!”

“October,” Louis giggled, throwing his arms around Harry’s back. “We can move into the new place the first of October. We’ll have to plan a Halloween housewarming party!”

“You can be young Bowie and I can be young Jagger.”

Louis laughed and rolled Harry onto his back.

“You already have our couples costumes planned?”

“Just for the next, like,” Harry’s tongue snuck out of his smiling mouth, “five Halloweens. Then we’ll have to figure something else out.”

They both laughed loudly, oblivious to their smiling friends walking towards the blanket. Louis leaned over to press a wet, smacked kiss to Harry’s lips, Harry’s hand cradling the back of Louis’ head, a sliver of red ribbon tied around the black leather strap of his watch.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of the baker and the graphic designer comes to an end! Sex, surprises, family, changes and fun. Lots of brunch. Lots of bodily fluids. Lots of celebrations. Lots of love!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: This is a work of complete fiction. Never happened, not real, no offense is intended. Absolutely does not reflect upon the real life people mentioned in this fictional story. No profit is being made from this work. The story, and its characters, belong to me. Please do not repost anywhere and do not print/distribute. Please do not translate my story, as I am not authorizing translations at this time. This is all meant to be just silly fun. For serious publishing inquiries, please comment with contact information.**
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> First off, thank you to my warrior beta, [Jess](http://whitechimes.tumblr.com), for sticking by me when this fic turned into a multi-year monster! What I thought would be a quick write was the complete opposite. Jess was always there to cheer me on, offer her thoughts, listen to me rant via text, flail with me in Googledoc comments, and make me laugh when I needed a laugh the most. Not even just fic related, but the advice and kindness she offers so freely is a gift that I’m so thankful for. She is a treasure! So, so thankful for the time and effort she gave to RNTM and the support she offered!! Thank you!!
> 
> Thank you to [Cass](http://larryappreciation.tumblr.com), [Alice](http://intenselouis.tumblr.com) (extra thank you to Alice for her French help for these chapters!), [Helen](http://seplei.tumblr.com), and all the Tumblr readers who have been so supportive. I wish I got paid in fic dollars so I could take y’all all out to a fic steak dinner (and drinks), because you are truly the kindest, most lovely bunch of people. Thank you!
> 
> To the people who made fan art, who cooked dishes and made chocolates based on the story, who made really cool memes and gifsets that I’d never know how to make on my own, everything. You are all so, so talented and I’m honored that you would take the time to do that for RNTM. I hope that you continue to be creative with whatever you do! Because you are seriously so, so talented. Thank you!
> 
> Thank you to the lovely Alex for some Britpick help in Chapter 24, it is much appreciated!
> 
> Thank you for the AMAZING comments on AO3, whether anon or not. I feel very lucky that for a fic as long as RNTM, I’ve had so many readers on this journey. Not only are you lovely readers, but your comments blow. my. MIND! I sometimes get comments about things that I’m like omg why are these people not writers themselves, because they are so thoughtful and in depth. I’m truly lucky to have you all! For the people who have never commented, that’s totally fine. If you enjoyed the ride, I’m so happy to have had you reading along! Thank you!
> 
> Thank you to the Tumblr anons, and people who use their Tumblr usernames, to send me notes and messages! Thank you to the people on Tumblr who make entries about RNTM that are so funny I legit cry laughing and make a fool of myself in public, because y’all are so clever and hilarious. This is my first fandom where I was involved with Tumblr for the length of a fic, and it was an adventure! But such an incredible treasure trove of supportive, intelligent, fun people! Thank you!
> 
> Just a quick note about a potential trigger for those sensitive to medical events.
> 
> Okay, Enough rambling. These chapters are long enough as it is lol In short, I guess I’ll just say THANK YOU! ENJOY!

“What are you doing?”

“Um.” Louis’ fingers loosened enough for a book to drop into a cardboard box. He sat back on his feet and peered upwards. “Packing books?”

Harry’s brows pinched tighter together to form a wrinkle across his forehead. He shook his head, his hair fluffing around his blue and red head scarf. He dragged his pointer finger from left to right over the remaining books on the shelf. 

“But you’re not putting them in order.” He adjusted one book with a tiny shift of its spine. “They were in an order.”

Louis looked from the half empty bookshelf to the nearly full cardboard box. He rubbed his hands over the top of his thighs.

“Right, but, uh…” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Aren’t you going to have to put them in a new order anyway once our books are combined?”

Harry prodded Louis’ arse with his toes.

“You own books in paper form?”

Louis’ eyes rolled from the books to Harry’s face. Harry hid his mouth with his hand but his deep dimple peeked out from behind his fingers, his curved eyes shimmering. 

“Very funny. I own…” A beat passed and Louis scrunched his fingers on the bony top of Harry’s foot. “At least five actual copies of books.” Harry laughed, hopping backwards and lifting his leg. “Whether I have books or not, we’re still moving all our shit and throwing it together at the same place. Does it really matter how books are packed when you’re going to unpack them in a couple weeks?”

“I just,” Harry got down to his knees and stuck his hand into the box of books, “had them in an order. Fiction. Non-fiction. Cooking. Comics.” He switched two books around and picked up a stack of comics. He placed them on top of a heavy textbook on French pastry, smoothing his hand over the plastic covering. “I don’t want to forget anything.”

Louis sat back on his heels, his palms flat on the tops of his thighs.

“Are you seriously concerned about this?”

“I’m only trying to be organized for the move.”

“We’re temporarily placing items in boxes before we then unpack them in a matter of days. I think your robot comics will survive rubbing elbows with The Joy of Cooking.”

Harry cradled a paperback to his chest and reached for another hardcover cookbook.

“Don’t make fun of my robot comics."

Louis fought a smile but Harry’s pouty face made laughter bubble in his belly.

“I’m not making fun of them. Besides, it’s not like this building will be bulldozed the minute you leave. Niall and Ed are going to be here. I’m pretty sure they won’t mind if you come by to pick up a book you left.”

“Well, we’re not leaving anything behind.”

Louis glanced at the overflowing boxes of bubble wrapped kitchenware. His lips twitched.

“Yeah, of course not.”

Harry tilted his head to bring his face into Louis’ line of vision.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Louis chuckled, holding his palms out. Harry stared at him, not blinking, his brows arching higher. “I’m just…” Louis smiled and stifled another laugh, his voice shaking with amusement to admit, “You have a lot of cooking stuff, that’s all.”

“I’m a chef. Of course I have lots of cooking things. You don’t seem to mind when you’re eating the food I make.”

Louis' eyes widened, a surprised sound clucked out of his throat.

“I didn’t say it like it was a bad thing.”

“You kind of did.”

“I did not,” Louis insisted, crawling closer, their knees bumping. He smoothed his hands down Harry’s outer biceps. “I always love it when you cook and am so thankful for it. You know that.”

Harry’s gaze skittered away.

“I guess.”

Louis tilted his forehead forward and met Harry’s eyes.

“Harry.”

“You have,” Harry fluttered one hand at Louis, his arms crossed over his chest, “all your suits and stuff. Lots of clothes.”

Louis laughed, “They’re for work! And you love my suits. And you have more boots than anyone I’ve ever met, you’re one to talk.”

“That’s why I said we needed a place with lots of storage. Because we both have stuff.”

“We’ve got a place with a lot of storage. What’s the issue?”

“There is no issue.”

“Then why are we bickering?”

Harry’s face slackened.

“We’re bickering?”

Louis looked around the half empty living room as if ghosts were laughing at them. 

“Um, I think so?” Harry’s mouth fell open and Louis shrugged his shoulders up. “At least, our version of bickering.”

Harry wrapped his arms around Louis and pulled him forward, enveloping him to his chest. Louis smiled against the top of his shoulder. His own arms looped around Harry’s lower back. The smell of sweet butter mixed with a hint of boyish sweat invaded Louis’ nostrils, his nose crunching against the lowest point of his neck to suck in a big breath of Harry’s skin.

“I don’t want us to bicker and I don’t mean to be difficult,” Harry murmured, rubbing soothing circles between Louis’ shoulderblades. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not being difficult. No need to apologize.” Louis slipped his hand up the back of Harry’s shirt and flattened his palm to rub up his spine. “It’s alright.” He kissed the arch of his neck, kissing down to his collarbone. “Moving sucks. It’s stressful and exhausting.” He pressed his nose on top of Harry’s shoulder. “We’re both tired. It’s alright.”

“But it shouldn’t be hard. I’m so excited to move.”

“I know. I get it, though.” He kissed beneath Harry’s ear. “I get where you’re coming from.”

Harry squeezed him tight before sitting back on his socked feet, mismatched with blue stripes on his left foot and [pink cats](http://us.topman.com/en/tmus/product/psychic-cat-face-motif-socks-4223637?geoip=noredirect&cmpid=ppc_pla_US_ip&istCompanyId=36bf3010-3004-4e0d-9440-d1e9655d3735&istItemId=lxatlawrl&istBid=tztx) on his right. His smile was bashful as he tucked a wild wave of hair into his headscarf.

“Sorry. I’ll leave you alone. You’re doing a great job.” He linked their fingers on the floor. “Thank you for even offering to help on the weekend. You could be doing anything else right now.”

“What else would I possibly want to be doing?”

Harry smiled and pecked his lips, nudging his nose to Louis’ cheek. Their lips bumped again, softer, Harry’s breaths hot over Louis’ chin. Louis rubbed up the top of Harry’s thighs; his touch was easy but his pressure was firm on Harry’s lean muscles. 

One of Harry’s fingertips traced down the side of Louis’ neck. He leaned closer to suck gently on his lips, the rest of his fingers stroking the downy skin that led to the neckline of Louis’ shirt.

“You look so good in your glasses,” Harry said quietly, his cheeks flushed. He sat back on his heels. “Contacts, too, obviously, but...Yeah." He smiled wider. "Your glasses are nice.”

Louis smirked. He shifted to bring their lips together, but broke away just as Harry’s lips melded to his own. He smiled and placed his fingers on the fronts of Harry’s hips, dragging them down to his knees with light, teasing strokes.

“You’ll get to see my glasses a lot when we live together.”

Louis watched Harry stare at his mouth for one heavy breath. Harry half-glanced at his pile of kitchen items and mountain of bubble wrap before looking at Louis’ mouth again. Confusion muddled his face, the wheels in his head practically visible as they turned from packing obligations to sex. Louis squeezed the bouncy muscle just above Harry’s knees and leaned in. He lingered close enough to Harry’s rosy lips to feel his breaths before he leaned back again.

“We should finish up then go shopping.”

Harry’s eyes fluttered up.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Harry said, his voice gruffer. He cleared his throat and nodded, smiling with his lips closed. “Of course.” He got on one knee, his hand on top of his thigh. “I’ll be done soon and then we can go.”

Harry walked into the kitchen. Black yoga pants clung to his legs, running down to right above his ankles. A white tank, so long it covered his bum, hung loose off his broad back. Harry ran his fingers through his hair, his shoulder bulging with the motion. 

He sat in the middle of the kitchen, his legs crossed and his back to Louis. He pulled apart two large sheets of bubble wrap and reached out for a pasta strainer. Louis smiled with his eyes still on Harry and licked his bottom lip. 

Louis picked up a sturdy looking cookbook about breakfast dishes. He turned it over in his hands then held it out, pressing his thumb and pointer finger into the hardcover. He let his hand go limp.

The book clattered loudly to the floor.

“Oops,” he whispered.

Harry’s head turned a quarter of the way to the right, bubble wrap stretched between his motionless hands. The flat was silent until Louis dropped a thin paperback novel onto the floor.

“Jeez. I’ve got butterfingers over here today,” he chuckled under his breath. “Maybe I need a break.”

Harry refocused on his collection of wooden cooking implements, his spine stick straight and his ears on high alert. He heard bare feet padding behind him. Louis stepped around Harry’s spot on the floor and went towards the sink. Harry’s eyes followed his journey around the island until he reached the cabinets.

Louis asked, “Want a drink, love?” and lifted his right arm high above his head. Grey Adidas sweats hung low enough on Louis’ hips to reveal a sliver of caramel skin below his black tank. Louis hummed and closed the high cabinet. “Oh, guess you packed them already.”

He walked around the island, still not looking at Harry, and hauled an open box up from the ground. The contents made a puffed, crinkled sound when they were disturbed. His corners of Louis’ lips were twitching, aching to rise higher than the small smile he had trained on his face. 

He pulled a glass out and ripped the bubble wrap off.

“Oh, that’s a mug,” he said, disappointed, plopping it back in the box. “Thought it was one of your water glasses.”

Harry flattened his palms on the floor behind him, leaning his weight back on his arms. The pads of his fingers dug into the wood as he watched Louis pick up another item and pull packing tape off with even less care. Bubble wrap crackled loudly.

“Oh, that’s a mug, as well,” Louis muttered.

He placed both items into a different box than he’d taken them out of, Harry’s fingernails biting into the hardwood.

“They’re in the box labeled **GLASSES** ,” Harry said, Louis’ bright eyes flickering to his face. Harry raised his eyebrows and nodded his head forward. “The box is right in front of you.”

Louis blinked once and tilted the cardboard box enough to read the side.

“Ah! Yes.” He smiled at Harry and tapped the word **GLASSES** written in neat, black Sharpie. “Thank you. Silly me.”

He took out a glass and pulled the bubble wrap off. He could not have let the tape drag any slower to break every bubble. He tossed the tape on the floor, flicking his fingers together as if some of the sticky tape residue lingered, and picked up the glass.

“Oh, this one.” He put it back in the box, bubble wrap half hanging on, and pulled out another glass. “You know I don’t like that glass.” He started to rip into the new glass. “The rim’s too thick.”

Harry pushed himself up from the floor in one smooth motion.

“I can get you water.”

“That’s alright,” Louis chuckled, dropping more bubble wrap on the island. “I can handle it.”

Harry pulled an open box on the island closer to himself.

“Which glass are you looking for?”

“Oh, I dunno. I’m not picky.” Louis held his arm out as if he were a game show host, scanning over the collection of full boxes. “We have so many glasses to choose from. How can I pick just one?”

Harry narrowed his eyes. Heat tingled on the base of his hairline, his temples throbbing once.

“Are you…” The skin beside his eyes crinkled as a smile stretched across his face. “Are you trying to rile me up?”

Louis maintained eye contact while he slowly ripped bubble wrap off of a glass. He stuck the tape on the middle of Harry’s forehead and smoothed his hand down to cradle his jawline.

“I don’t really have to try very hard at all, do I?”

Harry stared at him from behind his veil of bubble wrap.

“No, I suppose not.”

Louis pointed to the floor and started to bend.

“I’ll just check this box for a--”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Harry said softly, his arms wrapping around Louis’ waist. He mouthed three hot kisses along his neck. “You’ve done enough damage for today, troublemaker.”

Harry pulled Louis against his body, Louis’ feet lifting off the floor. An uncontrollable grin spread over Louis’ lips, his smile so wide it made his cheeks ache. 

“There’s always tomorrow,” Louis said over his shoulder.

Harry grunted a laugh and got down to his knees with his arms still around Louis. Louis’ body wilted to the floor and he crawled forward, slipping out of Harry’s grasp. He spun around and sat on his bum, extending his legs forward with his back against the island. He crossed his ankles and reached towards a box.

“You sure you don’t want anymore help, love?” he asked, blinking with slow, lazy flutters of his lashes. He bobbed his foot on top of his ankle. “I’m here to help.”

Louis held Harry’s stare and squeezed a bubble wrapped item until the bubbles snapped, his smile growing more devious. Harry plucked the item from his hand and tossed it in its designated box. He went towards Louis, who was already giggling, his heels sliding on the floor to push himself away. Harry’s arm looped around his lower back to hold onto him, flattening on top and pinning him to the floor with his weight.

“You’re done for,” Harry said, certain and low.

Their lips bit together, rushed and rough, Louis pulling hard on the back of Harry’s hair as Harry’s inner thigh tightened over his hips. A sheet of bubble wrap got stuck behind Louis’ head in the scuffle, causing plastic to pop each time they moved.

Harry struggled to grip Louis’ wrists, both huffing breathy laughs. Louis’ tank bunched to one side, revealing his nipple and half his chest. Louis pushed Harry’s hands away and held his arms to his sides. Harry smiled crookedly and lowered his face, Louis’ eyes going wider and his body already spasming.

“You shit,” Louis laughed, the tip of Harry’s flickering tongue brushing ever so softly on the crease of his arm. High pitched, uncontrollable laughter poured out of Louis’ mouth once Harry’s tongue slipped under his arm. “That’s ch-cheating!”

Louis arched his back and went to push Harry’s face away, but Harry caught his forearm with one meaty palm, his low chuckles vibrating against Louis’ neck. 

“M’being scrappy, love.” Harry’s thighs spread to straddle him, Louis’ wrists pinned high above his head. “I learned from the best.”

Louis bucked his hips up, defiant to the end, but Harry merely smiled and ground against him. Some of Louis’ faux-fury faded to heat, his second buck much slower. He earned another slow rub of Harry’s cock against his own, their thin clothes heating between them.

Harry leaned down and tightened his grip, their lips searing together and the back of Louis’ head pressing back into the ground. The pressure of their kisses resulted in a symphony of tiny farting sounds coming from the back of Louis’ head. Harry’s nostrils exhaled quicker breaths as Louis smiled. 

“Mmm, pop my--Pop my--” Louis started to giggle before he could even finish. His eyes crinkled nearly shut, Harry snorting against his cheek. “Pop my bubbles, baby.”

They laughed louder, Harry’s hands releasing Louis’ wrists. Harry bunched his hand in the bubble wrap behind Louis’ head for even more crackled fart sounds, Louis’ hands sliding up the back of his loose tank to scratch at his lower back.

“Maybe you’re right,” Harry said between smiled kisses. He sucked Louis’ Adam’s apple, nosing his pulse point and pressing his lips to the warm spot. “Maybe I have too much--” 

His words turned to a gasp. Louis curled his hand over the front of his yoga pants and rubbed down the thick length pressing against the stretchy material. A hot breath puffed out of Harry’s mouth, Louis opening their lips together. He bunched his fingers in the clingy fabric and started to jerk Harry through his yoga pants.

Louis rolled him onto his back and gripped him tighter, their wet kisses never missing a beat. Harry’s head bumped into a box and sent the utensils inside into a metallic, clinking tailspin. That did interrupt their kisses, both huffing quiet laughs into each other’s mouth.

“It’s your home, too.” Louis righted himself with a thigh on either side of Harry, his hand anchored to Harry’s cock. “You can bring as much as you want.”

Harry cupped Louis’ bum, Louis’ legs spreading further apart. Their lips seared together, their tongues slowly sliding, both hissing breaths through their noses. Sweat started to build beneath their soft clothes; the material began to catch on their damp skin.

“I have an entire box of wooden spoons,” Harry murmured.

Louis smiled and rolled his hips, their heads tilting in opposite directions to press harder open-mouthed kisses. 

“You’re a chef.”

Harry’s right hand slipped under the back of Louis’ boxers. His fingernails dug in for each gripped scrunch of his fingers to move lower on the meaty flesh. A firm squeeze to his arse made Louis’ hips stutter mid-grind. 

“But it’s an entire box of wooden spoons.” Harry’s left hand lifted Louis’ tee to flatten his hand on the undulating muscles of his lower back, his palm picking up on faint fresh sweat heating the small of his back. “A box devoted to wooden spoons.”

Louis’ fogged glasses fell off and landed on Harry’s face with their lips pressed together. He used his nose to push his glasses off of Harry’s cheek. They clattered on the floor.

“It’s whatever you want. Seriously.” Louis sucked beneath Harry’s ear on the sharp peak of his jawline, breathing in a hit of buttery skin. “Bring what you want. We’ll work it out. Moving is a process.”

Harry rolled Louis onto his back and flattened his thigh over Louis’ legs. He started to rut against him, Louis’ bare foot linking behind his ankle and his arms winding around Harry’s back. 

“But, like, it’s...It’s too many for one person.”

Louis’ smile was hidden against Harry’s lips. He pushed Harry’s headscarf off and scratched at his scalp, Harry humming into their kiss and shivering gently. Their lips popped off to breathe. 

“We’ll figure it out,” Louis said, dragging his fingernails down the back of Harry’s scalp. Harry shuddered and arched his neck to the side. “It’ll be fine, love.” 

Louis’ open lips toyed with Harry’s swollen mouth for a long, teasing beat before he tilted his head just so to slot their lips together. Harry exhaled a breathy moan out of his nostrils and hitched Louis’ leg around his hip, nipping rougher, hotter kisses down his neck. 

Louis’ eyes rolled around the kitchen floor. He reached above his head and grabbed a dutifully bubble-wrapped plastic cereal bowl.

The sound of ripping made Harry’s eyes open as his tongue licked a reddened spot on Louis’ collarbone. He watched Louis rip bubbles for a moment. His brows furrowed, his grinds speeding up. 

Harry went for his wrists but Louis moved his arms fast enough to toss the half wrapped bowl towards the living room. The bowl thunked under the coffee table.

“Alright, that’s it,” Harry said, pinning Louis’ forearms to the floor. Louis squirmed and freed one arm, managing to toss another heavily wrapped plastic tumbler over the island. Harry grasped his hand and pressed it to the floor, the dull burn of pain making Louis grind up against him. “Gonna have to restrain those naughty hands.”

Louis jerked his arms down and gripped Harry’s hands. There was a brief moment of pure tension, both gritting their teeth as they smiled, their joined hands and flexed arms shaking. Louis dug his toes in behind Harry’s knees, throwing his balance off and causing his legs to bend. They flipped quickly and their positions swapped, their limbs clunking on the wood floor, Harry ending up with his arms pinned over his head.

“We both know I’m gifted in the riding area,” Louis said, squeezing Harry’s hands against the wood. He ground faster against him, muffling Harry’s soft groan with a kiss. “And you like my naughty hands.”

Harry moaned into another kiss, nodding as Louis sucked his bottom lip. He tried to pull his arms down and Louis’ mouth buzzed against his lips, their hips swiveling harder.

“Fuck, Lou, wanna make you come.” He arched the small of his back and lifted his groin up to meet Louis’ grinds, blinking his hazy green eyes and licking his lips. “Please, love? Let me use my hands. Wanna make you feel so good.”

“Dunno,” Louis said, a smile curling his lips. “We wouldn’t want to upset the packing order or ruin more precious bubble wrap.”

Harry laughed, sweat starting to prickle his temples. He bent his legs and jutted up against Louis, Louis bouncing and gasping. He reached out to steady himself and his hand crunched in the bubble wrap. Harry suddenly rolled him over until their heads were hidden within an empty box, both giggling and tangling their feet together. Louis looked around their box fort.

“We probably look like your robot comics come to life.” He tilted his head side to side and said, “Beep bop boop bop beep,” in a metallic, but conversational, voice.

Harry’s laugh was so loud it made the wings of the box shake. He kissed Louis, snuffling, “The robots don’t have sex in the comics, silly.”

Louis arched a lazy brow, his fingers twirling in the back of Harry’s hair. 

“Oh, is that what we’re doing? Sex? I couldn’t tell.”

A slower smile widened Harry’s lips. His eyes glowed neon, wild, wavy hair framing the sides of his face. He lowered his lips to Louis’ jawline and gave him a sharp nip, digging his teeth in on the soft skin beneath his jaw, Louis grinning and shifting under him.

“Dunno,” Harry murmured as he kissed lower. “Seemed like you were hell bent on undoing all our hard work packing.”

He repeated the sharp, quick nip on the hollow of Louis’ collarbone. It prompted the same breathy exhalation from Louis, Louis’ thighs hugging him tighter. Harry’s long fingers crawled up under Louis’ shirt. Borderline ticklishness made Louis smile and huff, his stomach hollowing inwards.

Louis’ ribs expanded against his skin each time Harry slowly dragged his fingernails down the bulging, delicate bones, only to return up to nipple height and start over. Harry’s hot mouth suckled at Louis’ collarbone before moving lower, his tongue pressing against Louis’ nipple through the thin fabric of his tank.

Louis watched the top of Harry’s head as he moved lower and pushed his hands further up his shirt until his tank was pushed up under his arms. Harry nipped the bare centre of his chest, biting his right nipple and pulling the skin away from his pec. Louis’ arms shot to the side and banged into the cardboard box. 

“I’ll have to rile you up every day we live together,” he said.

Harry’s eyes crinkled as he bit and pulled again, sucking the sensitive skin into his hot mouth. He released Louis’ nipple with a pop.

“I have no doubt you will.”

“You know it’s because I love you,” Louis said, his words coming out of his mouth faster than his breath could support. Harry kissed lower until he reached his navel, which received a harder bite. The small of Louis’ back arched then banged against the floor, his feet sliding on the hardwood. “And I don’t mean any harm.”

Harry eased Louis’ sweats down his hips until they bunched at his knees. He maintained eye contact to lick down the hair below Louis’ navel.

“Do you think I’d be blowing you right now if I thought otherwise?”

Harry bit on the barely-there pudge of his groin beside the vee of his thigh and Louis’ brows pinched together, his mouth gasping. 

“Very true.”

Louis’ legs closed in and Harry’s palm smoothed over his inner thighs, biting again on the fuzzy, fleshy spot and nosing the hair at the base of his cock.

“Though you were rather mischievous,” Harry said, his low voice spreading over Louis like warm honey. He nipped the other side of his groin, really letting his teeth sink in, and Louis shouted throatily, his legs trying to close in and his hands slapping the cardboard over his head. “Let’s see, one cereal bowl.” Harry nipped the front of his hip, Louis’ fingers lacing in the back of his hair. “Two mugs.” Two quick bites to the vee of his thigh made Louis gasp and buck up, Harry opening his mouth to wetly suck the base of his cock. “Countless books.”

He kissed up his shaft and wrapped his lips around his head, Louis groaning, “Fuck,” and tightening his grip on his hair. 

Harry’s head bobbed slowly, his thumbs resting on the fronts of Louis’ hips. Each time Louis would buck upwards, Harry would dig his thumbs into his hip bones hard. Louis was caught between jerking away from his lush mouth or enduring the jolt of sensations vibrating out from his hip bones.

Louis whispered, “God, I love you so,” he gasped, his eyes clenching shut, “so--Ah! So fucking much. Christ, you know how to fucking tease me.”

Harry smiled up at him with his cheek bulged out, saliva dribbling down his chin. Louis’ smile morphed to a smirk as he raised his right hand into Harry’s line of vision and fisted a handful of fresh bubble wrap, bubbles crackling amidst Harry’s sucking sounds. 

Harry let Louis’ cock slide out of his mouth to lower his face. He bit hard on the soft skin of his groin, digging his fingers into the fleshy backs of his hips and vibrating his thumbs on the front bones. Louis howled a high laugh and pushed his heels into the ground, his legs hugging Harry’s face. Harry chuckled against his groin and reached to the right. 

Louis lifted his head from within the cardboard box and watched Harry take two pieces of bubble wrap from a box of half packed glasses. Harry laid the sheets over his ankles sticking out at the end of his sweats. 

“What are you…”

The sounds of packing tape bit through the air. Louis’ pursed lips rounded. Harry ripped two long lines of tape with his teeth, his top lip snarling with each bite and rip. Harry spread tape over the bubble wrap protecting his ankles, the tape long enough to touch the floor on either side of the bubble wrap.

“Are you fashioning bondage out of packing supplies?”

“Do you know me at all?”

Louis crossed his wrists and stretched his arms above his head.

“Dunno if I should bother with your hands,” Harry said, tossing the tape away. Louis watched it roll on its side until it spun out against the side of a box. “It’s these legs that are giving me trouble.”

Louis’ eyes fell shut with a smile, Harry kissing across his lower belly. His eyes opened when fingertips barely scratched the arches of his feet. 

“Fuck, you’re just as sneaky as I am,” Louis laughed, his toes curling. He bent his knees, causing the bubble wrap around his ankles to crackle. He and Harry both knew he could kick the bubble wrap bondage away with ease, but he couldn’t bring himself to ruin Harry’s industrious work. “Suck me off, you--Oh!” He pushed at Harry’s shoulders and laughed, swiveling his hips as Harry gently squeezed up his thighs. “Better yet,” Louis panted, smiling wide, “fuck me like this. Why waste the bubble wrap and tape?”

Harry’s face popped up, his lips swaying near Louis’ wet, dripping head. 

“Now you’re concerned with the bubble wrap?” He darted his tongue out, catching a whisper of Louis’ slit with the tip of his tongue. Louis’ brows pinched inwards, his abs clenching as he shifted his lower body. “Dunno.” Harry dragged his fingertips up the back of Louis’ cock. “Maybe I’ll leave you like this.” 

His eyes roamed over the bare skin of Louis’ very middle. His rumpled shirt covered everything from collarbones to mid-belly, his sweats hitched down but still covering his lower legs. Harry buried his face in Louis’ groin and whispered, “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous.” He sucked his head into his mouth, smoothing his right palm up the centre of Louis’ stomach.

Louis sighed and stroked the back of his hair. The determined wrinkle of Harry’s forehead as he sucked and stroked made his stomach swirl with tingles. 

“Fuck me,” Louis said, arching up into Harry’s slow, deep sucks. The wiggling of his feet made bubbles pop against the tape holding him to the floor. “I’m still good from this morning. Promise.”

Harry jerked him faster, lifting his face from his groin.

“I can’t remember where I packed the lube.”

Louis pushed the box off his head and swirled his hand around the kitchen.

“You have about eight million bottles of olive oil in here.” His blinked once. “I know. I watched you bubble wrap them all.” His mouth twitched to a flat line for his attempt at a stern Gordon Ramsay face. “Make it work, chef.”

Harry’s eyes lit up, his smile blinding.

He spread on top of Louis thirty second later, his slippery fingers sliding between Louis’ arse and the hard floor. Louis reached for Harry’s yoga pants and pushed them over the small swell of his bum. Harry pressed two fingers against his entrance and Louis’ legs spread wider, bubble wrap crinkling from his ankles. As Harry’s fingers sank into his body, Louis sighed, gripping the back of Harry’s hair and guiding his face up.

Louis’ tongue teased into his mouth, Harry fingering him deeper as oil dripped between his cheeks. Their heads tilted as they kissed, Harry’s knuckles bumping the floor every few thrusts and making rhythmic knocking sounds.

“Is that...” Louis panted breathlessly for a moment, staring down his body as three of Harry’s fingers sank into his flesh. His voice was tighter to ask, “Is that almond?”

“It’s a type of organic almond olive oil that I sometimes use to bake.” Harry thumbed Louis’ balls and sped up his fingers. “Costs a fortune per bottle.”

Louis’ entire back arched and a choppy cry choked out of his mouth. Harry kept pressing his fingers harder and faster. His mouth did the complete opposite, sucking and licking at Louis’ throat as if he had all the time in the world, his duo of sensations causing Louis to squirm and shiver beneath him.

Louis gripped Harry’s hair and lifted his face out of his neck, their eyes locking. Louis’ face was already stained sweaty pink, his hair matted down in the back. Harry smiled, arching his brows and jutting his chin up just so.

“Good,” Louis whispered, his chest heaving. “So good.”

Harry pulled out his fingers and licked his oily thumb, moving to sit back on his heels. Louis held onto his palm and nipped at his shiny middle finger. Harry’s brows furrowed, Louis smiling and lathing his tongue up the underslide of his index finger. Louis licked his shiny lips.

“Sweet.”

“Fuck, yes,” Harry said, sucking the oil from Louis’ mouth. Louis gripped the back of his hair, guiding his face sideways and mashing their lips together. “Worth every penny.”

Louis smiled and rolled onto his front. Hot palms massaged his shoulder blades, firm kisses sucked to the back of his neck. He pressed his cheek to the hardwood and Harry’s head lowered to brush their lips, both smiling into a longer kiss.

Harry sat up and angled Louis’ hips a touch higher. He looped his arms underneath Louis’ chest and flattened on top of him, the head of his cock nudging at his entrance. The curve of Louis’ neck was already glistening, his hair curling at the ends. Harry gripped himself and rubbed his head over Louis’ slick opening.

Louis exhaled what sounded like, “Yeah,” and rubbed his cheek against Harry’s forearm. 

Harry’s lips opened on the back of Louis’ salty neck as he pushed forward. Both groaned through their noses, a slow breath hissed out of Louis’ lips. Harry’s hips nudged forward and Louis bit the top of Harry’s wrist. Harry ground forward again, Louis’ lower back arching and his hips rolling to meet Harry’s gentle thrusts. 

Gentle thrusts turned to long, slow drives in and out of Louis’ body, Louis’ fingernails digging into the hardwood above his head. Harry’s kisses on the back of his neck never stopped, not even when their breaths grew choppy and uneven. Not even when Louis’ whimpers became muffled grunts and drool drizzled over Harry’s wrist. Not even when Harry’s socked feet slipped on the floor and he fell hard on top of Louis, pushing so far inside that Louis cried out loud enough to shake the open cabinet doors. 

Harry nibbled behind his ear, pre-come and sweet oil slick on his palm, and sped up his jerks. The tight pull of Louis’ body made Harry’s eyes clench shut, sweat stinging the bow of his lips. Louis laced his fingers into Harry’s hand and propped their joined hands under his cheek, softly moaning, “Harry,” and looking at him over his shoulder.

Louis’ cheeks were flushed bright pink, his kiss bitten lips an even darker rose, sweat shining on the strong line of his spine visible beneath the bunched fabric of his tank. Harry arched his neck sideways and seared their lips together, Louis murmuring more quiet nonsense into his mouth as his hips stuttered backwards.

Harry’s head jerked down without his control and his eyes clenched shut. His nose slid over the slick skin of Louis’ neck and crunched behind his ear. 

“Fuck,” he barked, the sound of his deep voice ringing hollow in his ears. He hugged Louis to his chest as he spilled inside of him. He felt Louis clench and release over and over again, Louis bouncing his arse backwards as fast as he could. “Fuck, Louis.”

Louis’ shouted words vibrated against Harry’s arm. His words were lost amidst the wet, slapping sounds of their bodies. Come squelched out of Harry’s clenched fist each time he jerked up to Louis’ head, Louis moaning low in his throat and squirming to meet his jerks.

Louis panted for a moment and went slack, the motions of his limbs slowing. He let his head fall sideways on his limp neck to rest on Harry’s forearm, Harry’s frantic breaths blowing hot over his skin.

“Oh, love,” Louis exhaled, smiling beatifically. He rubbed his toes over Harry’s ankles. His voice was half there to say, “My love.” 

Harry eased his grip on Louis’ cock and slid his hand up his stomach, enveloping him in a full body hug. Louis’ chest expanded beneath his palm, sweat melding their exposed skin. Louis gripped Harry’s hand and curled up half on his stomach, Harry’s body wrapped around him.

They caught their breath together on the kitchen floor, boxes and wrapping supplies strewn about their bodies.

“You know what’s good about this sweet oil?”

Louis opened his eyes at Harry’s question. He felt the slide of Harry pulling out and smiled to himself, his teeth nibbling on his bottom lip. He gave his lower back a slight arch.

“What’s good about the sweet oil?”

Harry chuckled quietly with his hands already spreading Louis’ cheeks.

“You know what’s good about the sweet oil.”

Louis giggled, “I do,” and pulled a cardboard box over his head, Harry kissing down the small of his back.

Later, with dust on their wrinkled clothes and bubble wrap taped to their heads like bridal veils, they exchanged lazy kisses within their box fort. Their bodies stuck out from the waist down, the top half of Louis’ arse sticking out from his hastily pulled down sweats. Their toes, Louis’ bare and Harry’s still in his slouched socks, rubbed together at the end of the island.

Louis cradled Harry’s face with both hands and joined their lips every few seconds. Harry’s smiles sometimes melted into delirious, quiet laughter, which only made them start kissing again. Louis smoothed his fingers through the front of Harry’s hair.

“What time does that storage shop close?” Louis asked.

“Who cares?”

Louis grinned and murmured, “C’mere." He smoothed his hand over the back of Harry’s head. “Your social hair is in danger.”

Harry bent his head forward so Louis could gently work packing tape out of his hair. As he detangled, Louis’ toes ran over the front of Harry’s ankle without him realizing he was doing it. Harry’s eyes scanned around their mini-box fort before landing on Louis’ face. Louis was pouting, his features wrinkled with extreme concentration. His fingers were so careful it was as if he was defusing an atomic bomb.

“I love you, Louis.” 

Harry watched Louis’ smile spread for a moment. Louis lowered his eyes from Harry’s hair to smile at properly him, his palm soft on Harry’s cheek.

“I love you, too,” he said, his tone equally quiet.

Harry’s lips twitched upwards to say, “And we can get whatever bins you want.”

Louis arched his brows.

“Even the black ones that cost more?”

“Even the black ones that cost more.”

Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s upper back, curling into him like a koala and kissing his lips with a happy smacking sound.

“I actually don’t really care about which storage bins we get.” Louis twirled his fingers in the back of Harry’s hair, his own bubble wrap veil still flowing behind his head. “It’s not important.”

Harry’s eyes grew distant as his smile widened.

“You’re right. I don’t know why we even made a big deal about it.”

“Didn’t we also bicker about hiring a moving company?” 

Harry squinted at him.

“Did we?”

Louis lifted himself to smirk down at Harry.

“Dunno. The sex afterwards sort of erased my memory.”

Harry laughed and rolled Louis onto his side to resume their kisses. The front door opened and shut. Trainers slapped against the floor, a hot pink rucksack tossed on the ground beside the island. 

Niall walked into the kitchen with his thumbs flying over his iPhone. A half finished iced coffee was propped against his chest with neon green Ray Bans crooked on the bridge of his nose. He plopped his iced coffee on the island and leaned forward to sip as he read his phone.

“Hey, mates. How’s it--Oh! I forgot to tell you!” He stood up straight and walked to the fridge, his eyes still on his phone. “Or maybe I did. I can’t remember. But did I tell you guys that Mini has a cat? Her name is Lisa Simpson. She’s the fucking shit! She falls asleep on your chest and purrs and feels like a heating pad and is almost all white but has a little orange spot on the top of her head, like kind of Harry Potter-ish, but not in the shape of a lightning bolt. And it’s a girl cat, not a boy.”

Harry and Louis watched him open the refrigerator from their spot sprawled on the floor, half their bodies inside a cardboard box. Louis’ arse was still on display with his bubble wrap cuffs clinging to his ankles.

“That’s awesome,” Louis said, Harry nodding along to his story.

Niall pulled out a plate of leftover spaghetti and ripped foil off with a flourish.

“Oh! And Damini means lightning! Did I tell you guys that?” He narrowed his eyes at the screen of his phone and picked up a piece of spaghetti with his finger. “I think I did. Didn’t I?” He sucked the pasta into his lips. “Yeah, I definitely did. Oh, and Mini is Damini. I told you that, yeah? That’s her nickname. Mini.” 

“Yeah, you told us,” Harry said.

“Anyway,” Niall sucked another strand into his mouth, licking his saucy fingers, “she’s so fucking amazing and we’re going out for sushi tonight and when I told her I used to eat wasabi to seem emotional for girls she laughed so hard she snorted tea out of her nose and it was the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, even cuter than Lisa Simpson, who is pretty crazy cute. Oh! Shit,” he said with spaghetti in his mouth, “I gotta go shower.” He licked his thumb. “Spaghetti is distracting me, like usual.”

He dropped the empty plate in the sink and went running towards the bathroom, Louis and Harry watching his trainers clomp around.

“See you guys later! Let me know if you need help packing or, uh,” Niall paused at the book case and hummed, frowning at the tumbleweeds of abandoned bubble wrap, “doing whatever you’re doing.”

“Thank, mate,” Harry called to him.

The bathroom door slammed shut, cheerful whistling carrying over the hiss of the shower. Harry and Louis were silent for a long moment. Louis rubbed the centre of Harry’s chest, tapping his fingers over his heart.

“He really was such an ideal roommate.”

Harry smiled towards the bathroom. A tinge of sadness tugged the corners of his eyes.

“He really was.”

. . .

“I cannot.”

“Cannot or will not?”

“I cannot, and will not, have that in our home.”

They stared at each other for a long moment as other shoppers walked around them, oversized blue bags in hand. Harry’s thumb tapped rapidly against a shelf. Louis remained perfectly still while leaning back against a box of pillows, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Louis. It’s a small storage bin for the guest bathroom. For guest towels. That’s it. Why do you care so much? It’s not like it’ll be in our en suite and you’ll have to see it every day.”

“Because it’s ugly and because we have perfectly fine closets for towels.” His fingers fluttered on top of his elbow to shift his crossed arms. “Why do we need a cheap organizer thing taking up space in there? We should get something nice, something real, if we’re going to pick out a piece of furniture.”

Harry sighed and bulged his eyes slightly. His fingertips sank into a stack of floral patterned hand towels.

“Our clothes and belongings go in the closets, and I don’t think it’s necessary to invest in something pricey to hold towels in a room we’ll barely even be in.”

“I didn’t say pricey. I meant something that’s actual furniture.” Louis nudged the toe of his trainer against the bottom row of bins. “This looks cheap.”

“I don’t mind spending money on items for us, not at all, but it seems unnecessary to buy another heavy piece of furniture.”

Louis started moving away from the storage bins but Harry smoothly stepped around him, standing with his hands on his hips. Louis sighed and turned towards a display of shower curtains.

“Why do we need to buy anything at all?” Louis asked.

“There isn’t a linen closet in the guest bathroom, so we need to figure something else out.”

Louis shrugged.

“We can store stuff under the sink. Out of sight, you know?”

Harry’s brows arched.

“Towels? You want to offer our guests bath towels from where the rusty pipes and toilet cleanser live? That’s pleasant.”

Louis pressed his palms together and held his hands to his chest. 

“Harry. I really, really hate when I go into someplace and you see all their business in an unorganized, clear plastic setup.”

“I’m not saying business. I’m saying towels. Clean towels.”

“It might start as towels, but then it’ll become, ‘Oh, let’s temporarily keep the cotton balls in here,’ and then, ‘Oh, we don’t have a place for old pens and loose change and bits of paper,’ and it’ll snowball into having junk drawers in every room.” Louis’ face soured. “I hate junk drawers.”

Harry released the towels and stepped back. Both stood with their hands at their sides, a display of soap dispensers separating them. They stared at each other for nearly half a minute until Harry steepled his hands together and brought the tips of his fingers below his lips. 

“Alright. That’s fine.” He blew a slow breath out of his mouth. He nodded. “I’m going home for a bit. It’s been a long day and I need a break.”

The hair on the back of Louis’ neck stood up, his head recoiling.

“What?”

Harry thumbed over his shoulder.

“I’m going to my place to cool off.”

“What? Now? You’re leaving now?”

“We can deal with towel storage later. It’s not a huge, pressing issue and there will be another sale eventually. I’ll call you tonight.” He leaned down and pecked Louis’ slackened lips. “I love you.”

Louis blinked rapidly. 

“But I thought we were getting meatballs?”

Harry clenched his fingers in the back of his hair and walked away. Louis watched air rush up the back of his black tee, a visible line of tension running up his spine. He jogged after him.

“So, we have one argument over towel storage and you’re leaving?” He walked next to Harry. “That’s it?”

“I’m not leaving.”

“You’re physically leaving the building.”

“I don’t want to have an argument in Ikea,” Harry said, even and controlled. “I don’t want to have an argument at all, but not in an Ikea.”

“Right. Because Ikea is such a sacred space. We saw someone change a nappy on one of the model beds. Please, Harry, give me a break.”

Some of Harry’s control slipped, the tension in his spine entering his tone. 

“I’m leaving because I don’t want us to yell at each other in public over something so stupid.” He walked faster, Louis’ trainers slapping the tile beside him. “What’s so wrong with that? I don’t want us to yell at each other. That’s it. I don’t like yelling.”

Louis countered, “Well, what’s wrong with what I have to say? Would you prefer I lie to you to appease you, then seethe silently about towel bins for the rest of our lives? I’m being honest with you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you expressing your opinion or honesty.”

Harry pushed the door of the store and held it open, stepping aside and looking at the sky as Louis hurried by. He let go of the door started to walk.

“Except if you disagree,” Louis said to Harry’s back.

Harry spun around and faced him, his hands flexed beside his outer thighs. His head shook for a moment, their eyes locked, Louis walking closer.

“I love your opinions, Lou,” Harry said, practically a whisper. “I love each and every one of them. I would have most of your opinions,” he fanned his fingers at the sky, “printed, framed and mounted. I love them that much. I just didn’t think you’d be so unwilling to compromise on things when it came to moving.” 

“I compromise plenty!”

Harry leaned lower, inches between the tips of their noses. 

“We’re supposed to be combining our lives, yet you won’t budge on something as simple as where to put towels.”

“That’s not true at all and you know it. I’ve compromised.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are we fighting about the guest bathroom? Why, Louis?” Louis’ mouth opened but Harry tilted his head and pushed onwards. “You’re usually so, so laid back and yet you’re fighting me tooth and nail about bubble wrap and throw rugs and storage bins and random shit I don’t even care about, but I do care about having a say in things, even if I’m not an artist or minimalist like you are. We usually agree on everything and I’m just confused right now.” Harry held his arms out. “Alright? I’m confused and I’ve been up since four, so I’d rather not fight it out in public. Is that alright with you? Do you approve of that, Louis?”

“Why are you saying my name like that, Harry?”

Harry lifted his hands and turned away for a beat.

“Forget it,” he said, spinning back to Louis with his hands behind his head. “Just forget it.”

Louis cocked his hip to the left and crossed his arms tighter over his chest.

“Okay. So, the minute I express an opinion that isn’t, ‘I love my boyfriend,’ or, ‘Harry’s amazing,’ or, ‘Yes, Harry,’ or something else that you find acceptable, then it’s me not being my usual cool, laid back self. Alright. Fine.” He gave him two bitter thumbs up. “Great to know I can never get worked up about anything ever in our relationship.”

“I didn’t say that. I didn’t say any of that!”

“Yes, you did! You just said that I’m usually laid back and you’re confused because I’m fighting you on the towel bins, which, if you recall, you said I could get whatever bins I wanted." Louis crossed his arms over his chest. "Maybe next time you should mean something before you say it.”

Harry turned away and dropped his head back, a taut laugh clucking out of his throat. 

“I don’t care about the towels. Can’t you see that!?” He turned to Louis and flexed his hands out from beside his face. “We could hang towels from paper clips, if that’s what you wanted, and I really wouldn’t care, as long as the towels have someplace to go that we both approve of.”

Louis sliced through the air with his palms.

“This isn’t about towels. Let’s just put that out there.”

“No, of course it’s not about towels. It’s about...” Harry tilted his head, a loud crack sounding, and Louis’s face fell, his right arm lifting. Harry flinched and ducked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know, I’m not supposed to do that. My neck’s...Nevermind.”

“I can…” Louis bit his bottom lip and took a step back, clenching his hands as his sides. “Right. Alright, so,” he blinked up at Harry, helplessness starting to seep into his gaze, “towels?”

Harry sighed and walked backwards. He leaned against the wall of Ikea and slid his hands behind his head, his tee riding up on his stomach. The brick dug into his skin, his eyes falling shut. He could hear Louis’ trainers scuffing on the sidewalk in front of him. He opened his eyes and blinked at Louis. Some of the exhaustion weighing down his body had seemingly transferred to Louis’ eyes.

“I can compromise,” Harry insisted, quiet but firm. “I can be flexible, but we’re going to live together. You and I both need to make room for each other. Not just physically make room, but opinion-wise, too. You’re going to see ugly things about me and I’m going to see ugly things about you. We can’t hide everything under the sink.”

“And that’s fine, love,” Louis said, softer. “It’ll be fine. I don’t want to hide anything from you and I want you to feel like you never have to hide anything from me. I will always have the most room for you.”

“I know, and I feel the same way, I just,” Harry pulled his shirt away from his chest and looked at the sky, “I need a moment alone, alright? I’m being honest with you.” His throat bobbed, his head dropping to look at Louis. “I just need a second alone.”

Louis swallowed and nodded. The fiery fight in his belly had moved a touch north, burning bright in the back of his throat. 

“Yeah, of course,” Louis said, still nodding. He swallowed thickly. “Of course. Whatever you need.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Harry pushed off the wall. A pinch of his shirt stuck up from the centre of his chest even after he released his hold on the fabric. He wrapped his hands around Louis’ hands. 

They stared at each other for a moment, their hands squeezing every few seconds. Harry ducked his face lower and pressed their lips together. He could feel Louis’ mouth twitch against his own, their heads tilting for a firmer press of their closed lips. 

As they stepped apart, Louis’ free hand flattened ever so lightly on the small of Harry’s back, Harry pressing his lips to his cheek. 

“I’ll talk to you later,” Harry whispered, thumbing his temple. “Alright?”

“Yeah. Alright.”

Harry squinted at him.

“You’re sure it’s alright?”

Louis nodded, his mouth scrunched forward.

“Totally.”

They were silent, the only noise filtering into their ears provided from the people swirling around them.

“Okay.” Harry nodded and squeezed his hand. “Bye.” His nose twitched, his voice coming out much more narrow than usual. “I’ll call you soon.”

“Have a good rest of the day.”

Harry stared at him for one more beat. Louis smiled with his lips shut, thumbing over Harry’s knuckles. Harry glanced down at their joined hands; the skin beneath his eyes seemed to darken, his expression growing more grey. He offered Louis a small smile and stepped away.

Louis slid his hands into his pockets and watched Harry walk for as long as he could see his hair bobbing above the crowd. He would assume Harry was going to take the tube home, but maybe Harry would take a long walk to another stop before hopping on the train. 

Then Harry’s head was lost in the crowd, people rushing around him. Louis turned away and peered at big, blue Ikea. He rolled up on the balls of his feet and pulled out his phone, moving to a less crowded bit of sidewalk. He held his phone to his ear.

“Hey,” he said gruffly. “Yeah, you? Mmm. Yeah, I’m fine. No,” he fought a smile, “I swear, I’m fine. I’m not--Yeah, I promise. I’m fine. What are you up to?”

He strolled in a circle around a large potted plant as he listened to Liam. A nearby family sitting on a bench watched him circle the plant. A little boy broke away from his family to run behind Louis, impersonating his posture and holding an invisible phone.

“Wanna get coffee on your break?” Louis stopped walking suddenly and the little boy slammed into the back of his thighs. The boy gasped and Louis smiled down at him, patting him on the head. Louis turned his face away from the boy and walked back to Ikea. “I’m nowhere near the spa. How am I supposed to bring you a snack?”

Louis listened for a moment then sighed. He laughed, “Nothing, I promise. I’m fine. I just...Like…” He scuffed his trainer against the ground, itching his fingers through the back of his hair. He sucked in a breath, exhaling it in one to ask, “When you and Zayn fight, what do you do after? Like, to fix it?”

Louis listened for a few seconds, Liam’s soothing voice flowing into his brain. He nodded along to his words.

“Sorry, what?” Louis’ nods turned to a slow head shake. “What’d you say?” 

His eyes widened and he thrust his phone as far from his face as his arm allowed. Liam’s loud laughter buzzed from the phone, the object vibrating in Louis’ hand. 

“Really funny, Li,” Louis said loudly. Liam continued to laugh and Louis rolled his eyes. He brought the phone back to his ear. A smile flickered onto his face, his feet strolling through the door of Ikea. Liam’s chatter made his smile emerge fully. “You’re just so hilarious today, aren’t you? And you wanted me to bring you a snack.”

Liam’s voice went loud again, Louis laughing and holding the phone from his ear.

. . .

Harry knocked on a familiar closed door. He inhaled through his nose and blew shaky air out of his mouth. His thumb cracked each of his knuckles, his toes wiggling within his boots. His hand tightened around the handle of a paper shopping bag.

The door swung open.

“Hey, mate,” Liam said with a warm smile. He stepped back and held his arm out. “C’mon in. Why’d you even buzz? You’ve got a key, silly.”

“Yeah, I know. I just... “ Harry shrugged and took two steps inside. “Felt weird using it. Since I didn’t tell Lou I was coming by.”

Liam’s smile softened as he pushed the door closed. He squeezed Harry’s shoulders.

“It’ll be fine, mate.” He looped an arm around Harry’s upper back and guided him into the apartment. “Couples have little spats. It’s normal. You’ll be over it, and very happy, in the morning. Trust me.”

Harry sank into Liam’s warm half-hug.

“I know. We were just being--Well, I was being stupid. I acted like a complete idiot.”

Liam patted his chest. 

“Nah, it was probably both of you. Half the reason Zayn and I dragged our feet for so long about moving in together is because moving sucks so incredibly hard. Even the happiest couples, like you and sweet Louis, will end up bickering about random shit.”

“Right? The randomest of shit,” Harry blurted out, sniffling slightly. “I don’t even care about the stupid towel bin. I was...I dunno.” He rubbed the heel of his hand over his right eye. “I was cranky and tired from work and stressed and I took it out on him, which is the last thing I’d ever want to do. He’s the last person I’d ever want to take anything out on because I,” his voice dropped, “because I love him so much.”

“I know, I know,” Liam said, magnanimous and low. “He said the exact same thing. Which is why, while I love the honeyed tambour of your voice, it would be best if you just talked to him about it.”

“You said he was asleep.”

Liam nodded towards the sofa. A crumpled red blanket laid wilted from the centre of the sofa to the floor, a wine bottle abandoned on the coffee table.

“Technically, he came home, put on Goodfellas, said, ‘I miss Harry,’ every two minutes, and fell asleep on the couch halfway through a bottle of riesling.”

“Oh,” Harry sighed, his eyes sagging towards the abandoned spot on the sofa. 

“He also put his shoes on three times and went to the door like he was going to leave, only to kick his shoes off, throw himself on the sofa, and pull the blanket over his head.” Liam held up three fingers. “Three times. It was both hilarious and sad to watch.”

Quieter, Harry drawled, “Lou.” His hand tightened on the shopping bag’s handle, a small smile sneaking out to glance at Liam. “He would kill you if he knew you told me that.”

Liam chuckled.

“Probably. S’true, though. He only went to his room a few minutes ago. You should go talk to him.”

“I wouldn't want to disturb him. I only came by to drop off--”

“Harry?”

Harry looked wide-eyed down Louis’ bedroom hallway. Louis emerged at the halfway point. Harry took a few uneven steps forward.

“Hi,” he exhaled.

"Hi, love," Louis said.

Harry paused with his feet pigeon toed and swung his bag in front of himself, clutching the handle with both hands. 

“I...I’m sorry for coming over unannounced.”

A thin smile stretched Louis’ lips. Black sweats hung low on his hips, the legs of his sweats tucked into mismatched socks at the ankle. His right sock was blue stripes, his left sock white. A creamsicle coloured tank, borrowed from Harry’s closet, dipped low on his chest and down his sides. 

“Don’t be silly. You don’t need to announce yourself. You should be sleeping, though.” Louis tucked his hands in his pockets. His eyes darted down to the Ikea bag clutched in Harry’s hands. His smile widened for a split second before he became serious. “You have work early tomorrow.”

“I told Helena I’d be late. Elliot can cover.”

Louis’ head tilted as he nodded slowly.

“Oh,” he said, his voice light. “That’s...That’s cool.”

“Yeah.”

“So.” Louis padded closer. He sawed his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment before letting it pop out of his mouth. “What’s up?”

“I, uh.” Harry’s mouth gaped open and shut. “Well, I. Um.” Louis raised his eyebrows and nodded his forehead forward. Liam’s arm loosened from around Harry’s back. Liam’s voice was barely a whisper to say, “Fly, my little butterfly, fly,” before his very presence disappeared. Harry walked down the hall. “I, um, I tried to call.”

Louis winced. 

“Sorry, yeah, I fell asleep on the sofa.” Louis ran his fingers back through his hair. “I just saw the missed calls.” 

“I wanted to say goodnight. And to apologize.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“I do.”

“I was going to call you, I promise,” Louis said, stepping closer. “I didn’t want us to go to bed angry. Every relationship article in every magazine ever says that’s a bad thing, and the thought of you upset is so disturbing that I don’t think I would have gotten much sleep anyway. My alarm just woke me up, actually, but then you were here and--” He blew a puff of air out of his lips. “I’m--I was an idiot.”

“You weren’t,” Harry insisted. “I was the idiot. I acted like a child.”

“I need to be more flexible. We’re living in a home, not a museum, and I don’t have to be such a pain. You’re so right. I was unreasonable.”

“Louis.”

Louis pointed over his shoulder at his bedroom door.

“I found a towel caddy online that has frosted glass doors and gets bolted to the wall. It looks kind of like the one in the hotel we stayed in; the one you said was cool. I think it could work in the space, if you like the design of it, of course. Do you still want a towel thing?” His feet moved towards his bedroom but his body remained facing Harry. “I could get my iPad and show you. I bookmarked it.”

Harry stepped up until there was only an arm's length between them.

“That sounds lovely, but really, you shouldn’t be apologizing. I should be apologizing.”

“No, I should be apologizing, Harry. I’m glad you didn’t back down and you called me on my shit.”

“But I left you.” Harry gripped the back of his hair and shook his head, staring at the floor. “I never, ever should have left like that.”

“You quietly exited an Ikea. That’s not exactly something to beat yourself up over.”

“I left you,” Harry repeated, sounding ill.

“You needed space and were honest with me. I love you even more for it,” Louis said, Harry’s face sagging despite the glimmer of light in his eyes. “You know I love honesty, but I guess I didn’t take it as well when it was directed back at me. I have weird, like,” Louis’ face scrunched, his cheeks growing rosier, “memories of, um.” 

He ran his hand through his hair, his bicep clenching and the tank slipping down his ribs. Louis’ tongue darted over his lips.

“Like, at my mum’s house when I was growing up,” he explained, “there was always so much crap strewn about because there were so many people sharing the space. I hate clutter.” His hand sliced through the air. “I hate it. I’m sorry if that’s not flexible, but I really, really don’t like it.” He shook his head and rubbed his palm over his face. “Sorry,” he huffed on a weak laugh. “That was a weird, boring story about my messy childhood.”

Harry rushed up to him.

“No, not boring. Informative. And you were right. I told you that you could pick whatever bins you want and went back on my word, which was wrong.” 

“No, no, no,” Louis said, his face scrunching. “Just because you said that once doesn’t mean you never get a say about bins for the rest of our lives. That’s not what that means.”

“I don’t even care about the towels or bins.”

“I know that.”

“But I shouldn’t have left. Absolutely not.”

“Harry, you’re allowed to want alone time,” Louis quickly said over him. “It’s alright, love. I’m glad you expressed yourself and told me you were upset. I know you don’t want conflict, so I’m sure that was hard for you.”

“But I shouldn’t have left you like that. And I shouldn’t have lashed out at you like that. I’m never doing that again. Ever.”

“You did not lash out,” Louis said, holding back a laugh. Harry pouted at him with such sadness that Louis’ hands reached out to soothe the sides of his neck. “You got frustrated and told me you were frustrated, which is good. I know I’m stubborn sometimes and I have to work on it. I can understand why you’d be concerned about combining our lives if I wouldn’t budge about towels. In your mind, towels are you, and you were worried about me not making space for you in my life, which is completely not what I meant to express. I understand your reaction.”

Harry shook his head.

“You’re being too easy on me.”

“I am not,” Louis laughed. 

“Leaving was so immature and I was so embarrassed that I got so worked up that I felt like I had to see it through and actually leave. Then I got home and felt like complete shit and I’m--” His nose wrinkled, his lips pressing together. He gasped out, “I’m--”

“Harry--” 

Louis opened his arms in time for Harry’s face to press into his neck, their arms wrapping around each other. A shaky breath was blown underneath the back of Louis’ tank, Harry’s arms tightening. Louis blinked and looked down at Harry’s shaking shoulders. 

“It’s alright, love, it’s alright,” Louis whispered, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades. He kissed the shell of Harry’s ear. “You wanted alone time and I understand. I don’t want us to yell at each other either.” He kissed beneath his ear, scratching his back with his fingernails. “We’re both going to need alone time sometimes and we might have to yell sometimes. We’re human.” 

Harry’s words, normally so easy and drawled, tumbled out of his mouth quickly.

“But I didn’t want alone time. I didn’t want to be away from you. I just…I felt like I had started a ridiculous fight about towel bins and felt so stupid and I couldn’t...I don’t know.” He took a deep breath and blew it out, sucking another breath in and crunching his nose against Louis’ shoulder. “I needed to take a walk or something.”

“And that’s fine.” Louis tilted his head and pressed his lips to Harry’s temple, Harry shuddering uneven breaths against his neck. “It’s alright, love.” Louis carded his fingers through the back of Harry’s hair, sweat sliding under his soothing touch. “We’re going to have spats. It’s normal. Liam told me and he’s very wise.”

“I know.”

“And moving sucks.”

“I know,” Harry drawled, his voice deeper. He hugged Louis tighter. “It sucks so, so much, right? It’s the most draining, hellish activity. We never fight. Ever. And then this bin thing.” He lifted his face from Louis’ neck. “Where did that even come from?”

“Right. So, you see?” He cradled the back of Harry’s head with one hand, gently digging his other fingers into the base of his neck. “We’re on the same page. Everything will be packed and moved very soon and this whole thing will be a blip on the radar.”

“Good,” Harry said on an exhale, his eyes wide. 

Louis’ smile burst into a small laugh, Harry nudging their foreheads together. His face was wrinkled from pressing so hard against the shirt on Louis’ shoulder, sweat glowing on his cheekbones. Harry held up his paper bag. 

“I bought you Swedish meatballs.”

The corners of Louis’ mouth twitched without his control while his bottom lip trembled, his eyes welling up suddenly.

“Harry,” Louis said softly, accepting the bag. Harry cradled his free hand and lifted it, pressing his lips to the top of Louis’ hand and rubbing Louis’ knuckles over the bridge of his nose. “Only you could make Swedish meatballs the most romantic gift ever.” Harry’s dimple popped, his lips still kissing Louis’ knuckles. Louis swung their joined hands between them. “C’mon. Let’s get forks.” He stood on tiptoe and pressed his lips to the corner of Harry’s mouth, whispering, “Missed you.”

“God, I missed you,” Harry said at full volume, Louis laughing quietly.

They walked down the hallway.

“Shit, go, go, go,” Zayn’s voice whispered in the distance.

Two pairs of socked feet skidded towards Liam’s bedroom. A very non-suspicious door slammed shut. Liam’s voice carried through the door to say, “Are you kidding me? You couldn’t have done that a touch quieter?”

They chuckled as they entered the kitchen, the sound of another couple bickering accompanying their stroll. Louis bumped his nose into Harry’s outer bicep and kissed the spot, Harry bending to kiss the top of Louis’ head. Their hands squeezed once before Louis let go to open the refrigerator. 

Louis turned towards him and shut the door with his bum. He held out a takeaway box from Ikea. Harry’s smiling mouth fell open.

“You didn’t.”

Louis popped the top, revealing a bounty of Swedish meatballs. Joy flooded Harry’s puppy dog eyes, his chest swelling and his cheeks glowing pink. 

“You did,” Harry giggled, excitement lightening his voice. 

“Great minds on the same page, right?”

“Definitely.”

“I was,” Louis bit his bottom lip for a moment, “I was going to bring them to you at work tomorrow.”

“I’ve never felt so connected by meatballs."

“When the Ikea lady asked how many I wanted, I said enough for two, and I almost,” Louis paused for a split-second, placing the box on the counter, “I almost started crying.” He smiled at the ceiling, Harry’s warmth spreading over his body. Gentle hands touched his stomach, smoothing up his outer arms. “In an Ikea cafeteria,” Louis chuckled lightly. “What’s become of me? I’m as bad as the nappy changing lady.”

“Oh, babe,” Harry murmured. He pulled Louis into his arms and pressed slow, reverent kisses up his neck. “I’m sorry. I’m so,” a kiss beneath his jawline, “so,” a firm press of his lips to Louis’ cheek, “sorry.”

Louis let his neck go limp, his face pressing into Harry’s sweet smelling t-shirt. 

“I’m sorry, too.”

Louis pecked Harry’s lips, his hands soft on Harry’s face. Their lips tenderly sucked as Harry walked them backwards and pressed Louis up against the counter. Harry kissed both of his cheeks, Louis giggling and arching his neck as Harry rapid-fire kissed whatever skin he could get to. Louis opened a drawer to grab two forks. 

“Do you want to go back to sleep?” Harry asked, kissing down Louis’ neck.

“Nope.” Louis looped an arm around Harry’s lower back, lifting the takeaway container with his free hand. He smiled. “Wanna eat meatballs in bed while I work the kinks out of your neck? We can watch something trashy, too.”

Harry rested his head on Louis’ shoulder, sighing out, “Yes, please. Forever and ever.”

“Amen.”

They went into Louis’ bedroom. Harry toed his boots off at the door while Louis opened his laptop. Louis’ body was propelled forward on the bed.

“You big mush,” Louis laughed, fond and amused. Harry hummed against the back of his neck and hugged him tighter, their upper bodies spooning on the bed while their legs flailed in the air. Louis turned his head, his mouth muffled against Harry’s forearm. “I love you. Love love you.”

Harry made a happy, low growled sound and wiggled their bodies.

“I love love you, too.” Harry brought his lips to Louis’ ear and whispered, “Just to let you know, I’m going to eat you out so often for the next month or two that we might have to pull a few sickies.”

They both laughed and relaxed on the bed, Louis reaching behind himself to give Harry’s hair a gentle tug. 

Louis squirmed out of Harry’s starfish grip and sat with his back against the headboard. He spread his legs and held his arms out, patting his chest. Harry laid on him with the back of his head tucked against Louis’ neck. Their legs ran parallel in matching vees, their feet resting together at the end of the bed and the laptop in the middle of their legs. 

Their cozy position lasted for two meatballs and seven minutes of a Vanderpump Rules episode.

“I read that the food there is all over the place style-wise. It’s a huge menu,” Harry said, sounding drowsy. “It looks pretty on television.”

“You read about the restaurant from this show?”

Harry rubbed his hands over Louis’ knees.

“For chef and food related reasons.” He tilted his head back and smiled slyly. “Not because I like the show or something.”

Louis smiled into his hair, Harry cuddling back against him. As Harry got comfortable, Louis rubbed his palms up and down the sides of his neck. He dug his thumbs in on the tense muscles that started just beneath Harry's ears, pulsing his thumbs down to his shoulders. He dug his thumbs in on the way up, dropping a quick kiss to his temple. 

Harry inhaled slowly, exhaling, “Louis,” and letting his head fall to the side. Louis swallowed. His eyes strayed from the program on his laptop to the smooth stretch of Harry's skin, silky brown waves tumbling down to tickle his forearm.

He repeated the gentle massage and Harry bent his knees closer to his chest, his feet sliding on the duvet. The wet sound of Harry sucking his rosy bottom lip made Louis swallow yet again, more saliva built up in his mouth. Harry's lower back arched.

“Fuck, Lou,” he moaned, “feels so good.”

Louis shut his laptop.

“Right.”

Harry’s eyes fluttered open as Louis grabbed their shared take-away container of meatballs and tossed it on his bedside table. Louis shifted out from under Harry and got to his knees. He pulled his tank over his head. A smile broke on Harry’s face and he pulled his own tee off, his body flat on the bed. 

Their clothes hit the floor, Louis’ laptop pillowed on Harry’s bunched up jeans. They glanced at each other for a beat. Harry’s eyes were heavy, his body moving to the centre of the bed and his legs spreading. He turned his head on the pillow and gripped himself, his cock already hard and leaking against his stomach. 

Harry spread his legs and jerked himself, the small of his back arching. The right side of Louis’ lips rose, his tiny nod sending a rosy flush up Harry’s neck to darken his cheeks, fresh sweat prickling over his entire body.

Louis grabbed lube in time for Harry to grip his forearm and pull him backwards, his body tumbling onto Harry’s sweaty torso. Where there might have been a laugh the day before, and would likely be a laugh the day after, that night, Louis merely exhaled and flattened between Harry’s legs. Their moves were faster than usual, more desperate, hands searing skin and lips skittering in half kisses.

Louis gripped the base of Harry’s cock and sucked him into his mouth. He started with a fast, tight, relentless pace; there was no time to tease. His head rhythmically bobbed up and down, Harry squirming beneath him. Louis squeezed his balls, lube already slick on his fingers.

Harry flattened his palm on the back of Louis’ neck and clenched his glutes. Electric blue pinned him in place, Louis spreading lube on his opening while staring up at him. Louis pressed two fingers inside and Harry’s head fell back, a weak cry lining up with Louis’ next press of his fingers.

Louis reached for more lube and Harry shook his head, his hair falling in his eyes.

“Just a little,” Harry rasped. He pushed his hair off his face and bit his bottom lip, tightening around Louis’ fingers. “Wanna feel you.”

His guttural voice blended in with the wet clench of his arse, both sounds making Louis’ fingers tremble. Louis swallowed and pulled his fingers out. He crawled up Harry’s body and anchored one hand behind each of Harry’s knees. He pushed Harry’s thighs to his chest, Harry gripping the backs of his thighs and spreading himself open.

“Fuck,” Louis breathed, kissing his left inner ankle. “Just…” He quickly dragged his nose up Harry’s fuzzy inner thigh. “Fuck.”

Louis flattened on top of him and bit Harry’s top lip, their hot breaths mingling as they panted and kissed. Harry opened his lips wider and tilted his head, their kisses growing harder; their noises more desperate. 

Louis reached between their legs and pushed Harry’s cock aside with the top of his hand to line himself up. Harry exhaled a high sigh and wrapped his legs around Louis, pushing the head of his cock inside. 

“C’mon, love,” Harry whispered. “Fuck me.”

Louis’ fingers twitched towards the discarded tube of lube, but he smoothed his hand over Harry’s arse instead. He squeezed the peachy roundness before landing a loud slap on the meatiest part of his arse. 

Harry moaned and tried to push Louis deeper inside but Louis nipped his bottom lip. Another slap echoed in the humid bedroom. Harry arched his back and groaned, pulling Louis’ face down to slam their lips together.

“Come on,” Harry panted out amidst their heavy breathing. “Fuck m--Ah!” Harry held out a low, breathy ah as Louis pressed into him. The bed creaked, Harry’s fingers tightening in Louis’ hair. “Oh, fuck, Lou.” 

“Do you deserve it?”

Harry nodded and went for another kiss, but Louis held his face an inch away from Harry’s straining lips. He thrust again, slower and deeper. Then Louis’ cock was all but gone, the tip barely inside of him. 

“Do you?” Louis rasped.

“Yes. Fuck,” Harry said, angling his hips down. He felt slippery and itchy, his legs trembling against his chest. The tease of Louis’ wet cockhead nudging his arse made his lips straighten, both of his hands squeezing Louis’ arse cheeks and pulling him onto his body. “Come on. I can--”

A low, throaty sound droned out of Harry, his head lolling back. He tightened his grip on Louis’ arse, Louis’ muscles clenching under his fingers as he pressed inside. Rather than take it slow and gentle, Louis immediately pulled back and punched his hips forward, prompting another rough sound from Harry. 

The tightness was almost too much, but the fizzle of pleasure overpowered any dull pain. Louis gripped the back of Harry’s hair and snapped his hips for a harder set of thrusts. Their breaths and the slapping of sweaty skin filled the air, but words were not spoken. 

Each hump forward caused Harry to exhale audibly, the involuntary sounds almost like a whine. Louis panted against his chin and shifted his face, searing his lips to Harry’s mouth. Their kiss was off centre; Harry’s lips smushed under Louis’ sharp teeth. Harry gasped and dug his fingers into Louis’ arse, the quickening thrusts propelling him up into a mound of pillows.

“That the best you got?” Harry asked, air running through his deep voice. He smiled boyishly, sweaty hair falling over his eyes. He licked sweat from his top lip. “You had more fire when we fought about bins, for fuck’s sake.”

Louis laughed lowly and gripped Harry’s hips, slamming into him as fast as he could. Harry’s involuntary sounds were bumped up a few notches, the sound higher and faster.

“Almost like you know I was--I was--” Harry breathed quickly and smothered himself with Louis’ lips despite his lack of even breaths. Their lips popped apart, Harry gasping, “I was right and you were wrong.”

Louis’ next laugh was gruffer, his fingers digging into Harry’s hips.

“I’m gonna flip you over and fucking ram into you.”

“Maybe I should get on top if you’re not up for it,” Harry said, popping his ts. Despite the glowing flush coating his entire trembling body, he added, “You seem tired.”

Louis grinned and pulled out without warning, Harry wincing and arching his lower back. He glanced at Harry’s glistening arse before he sat on his heels and pulled Harry’s legs down, Harry’s cock slapping on his hip.

“Flip.”

Harry stretched his arms behind his head and taunted, “No.” 

Louis gripped both sides of Harry’s hips and pushed him onto his stomach. Harry’s long limbs flailed, the headboard banging against the wall. Harry bucked backwards against Louis’ hands and flopped on his side. Louis’ arms extended over him to grip his shoulders, their bodies tumbling together. Harry’s mouth latched onto Louis’ inner arm.

“Oh, you fuck,” Louis shouted, his bicep bulging underneath Harry’s sharp teeth. He lifted his arm and Harry’s hands pushed against his stomach, Louis’ legs squeezing around Harry’s thighs as his upper body wobbled backwards. “You utter fuck.”

Harry tried to roll but Louis sat on the backs of his thighs. Louis could hear Harry panting; could feel his sweat melding with his own. He landed a firm slap on Harry’s arse and Harry moaned softly, his dimple deepening as he grinned against the pillow. Louis spanked him again, once on each cheek, and Harry’s moans only grew louder, his skin burning hotter.

“Dunno if you’ve apologized enough,” Louis whispered, his words whipping over Harry’s ear. 

Harry’s smile grew when Louis pressed inside of him. His feet flexed at the end of the bed, his breath catching in his throat. He panted for a moment and ground his arse back. His eyes crinkled over his shoulder.

“Make me.”

“Is that a challenge?” Louis started to move his hips in shallow, short thrusts that fell just short of where Harry wanted him most. “Let’s see what we can do about that.”

He licked behind Harry’s ear and felt Harry shift under his weight, his thighs spreading on the bed. Louis’ tongue slowly dragged up and down, his mouth sucking Harry’s earlobe every couple of licks, the tempo of his grinds even slower. 

Harry turned his head the other direction and pushed his face into a pillow. Louis only repeated his wet, methodical licks behind his other ear, his hands crawling under Harry’s chest. Harry’s squirms sped up, Louis’ fingers zoning in on both of his nipples. He nibbled on his earlobe and pulled his nipples away from his chest, Harry’s entire body shuddering.

“Here we are,” Louis whispered, letting his hot breaths gush over Harry’s sweaty skin. That only prompted more shivers, Harry’s feet pushing his body up the bed. Louis held strong and lathed behind his ear, swirling his tongue on the tiny bit of skin between Harry’s earlobe and jaw. He rolled his nipples between his fingers. “Want me to go faster, love?”

“Yes, please. Oh--Oh!” Harry whimpered and pushed back against Louis’ deep thrusts, the head of his cock ramming directly on his hot spot. “Louis,” he groaned, chanting, “Louis, Louis, Louis,” with each hump.

“So sweet all of a sudden,” Louis murmured, pinching his nipples hard. He drawled, “Baby, baby, baby,” low in his throat, matching up with each of Harry’s breathy rasps of his name. “You gonna come, love?”

“Yes!” Harry cried. Louis’ fingers tugged his nipples mercilessly and Harry cried louder, “Yes! Fuck! Yes!”

“You sure?”

“Yes!”

“You still think you were right?”

“Yes!”

Louis’ hips slowed and Harry whimpered, his hand sliding down his drenched abs. Louis’ right hand abandoned Harry’s nipple to grip his wrist. He shot their arms straight up and pinned Harry’s hand to the bed. His hips started to pound into Harry, Harry’s tight, pulsing heat propelling him to move faster. Harry’s involuntary groans returned, his arse bouncing back to meet Louis’ thrusts.

“You still think you were right?” Louis repeated.

Harry panted out, “We were--Ahhh,” his eyes clenched shut, “both right. We were both--Ungh--U-Uh--Right! Fuck! Right fucking there!”

Louis smiled on the sweat soaked skin of Harry’s neck and released his grip. Harry shoved his hand under his body and grasped his aching cock. His palm shook for a few slippery, frantic jerks and then his entire body went tight as a drum, Louis’ fingers tugging his nipple hard enough for Harry’s throat to crack out, “Oh, fuck,” before come gushed over his knuckles.

Louis’ hips shuddered, his nose crunching behind Harry’s ear as he bucked uncontrollably, nasal grunts speeding up until he shot hot inside of Harry. Their bodies squelched together, Harry still exhaling audible whimpers as he came down, Louis trembling and hugging Harry with both arms.

They laid with their bodies still joined for an unknown number of minutes. Their breaths slowed, but their hearts kept pounding hard, a pleasant ache weighing down their bones.

“Oh my God,” Harry whispered.

Louis chuckled, the vibrations from his laugh causing Harry to giggle and squeeze around him. Louis rubbed his hands up Harry’s shoulder blades and placed a kiss behind his ear, Harry whimpering ever so softly. Louis kissed all over the back of his neck, finger-combing his hair and stroking his scalp. Harry’s sounds grew even softer, ever happier, his body melting into the mattress.

“You good?” Louis asked, his voice rough. 

“Very good. So good. Fuck, you’re good.”

Louis smiled against his neck and lifted his hips. As he pulled out, he watched Harry take a deep breath, his ribs expanding on his sides. He laid down on Harry right after pulling out, his muscles pulsing with involuntary, exhausted spasms. He sucked in a breath with his face pressed to the back of Harry’s neck, the sharp smell of his sweat making Louis’ body relax even more.

“Want me to clean you up?”

“Nah,” Harry said, reaching behind himself. He rubbed Louis’ arse, his hand experiencing the same involuntary trembles. His arm fell limp on the bed. “Later.”

Louis wrapped his arms around Harry and flattened his palms on his chest. Harry inhaled louder when Louis’ palms brushed over his nipples. Louis soothed over the sore, pinched skin.

“As always, if you wanted to get a bit rough, all you had to do was ask.”

Harry smiled with his eyes closed.

“I know. However, I’m quite pleased with how the message was conveyed this time." He inhaled deeply through his nose. “You’re so good at it, mindreader.”

Louis snuffled and smoothed his right hand over Harry’s arse cheek. He felt heat beneath his palm, Harry humming and arching his lower back to meet Louis’ soft, open palmed strokes. Louis brought his lips to Harry’s ear.

“I love you.” He kissed beneath his ear, Harry’s neck stretching. “You’re so good to me. You’re so beautiful. You're lovely.” He kissed down the sweaty line of neck. “I want to always make you happy. Always make you feel good.”

Harry laced their fingers and looped Louis’ hands under his chest, Louis cuddling his face into his neck.

“You do, love,” Harry drawled. His eyes were too heavy to keep open, the heat from both of their bodies pushing him closer to sleep. His mouth barely moved to add, “Every single day.”

“Even when we bicker in an Ikea?”

Their bodies shook with quiet laughter. Harry tilted his head and Louis pushed his toes into the bed, lifting himself to brush their lips together. Louis stroked his hair back and kissed him again

“Even then.” Harry’s eyes opened to slits, managing to sparkle even on the brink of sleep. “Especially then, if I know this is coming a few hours later.”

Louis laughed and bit the top of Harry’s shoulder.

. . .

The next morning, Louis woke up to the feeling of kisses. Soft, reverent kisses to his face, to be more exact. It was a wakeup that might have been met with giggles and a playful shove another morning, but that morning, he simply smiled and leaned into Harry’s warm palms.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Harry whispered.

Louis pursed his lips and smiled into a gentle, close-mouthed kiss. 

“Morning, love.” Harry resumed kissing over his face. “It smells like balls in here.”

Harry kissed the tip of his nose. 

“Does it? We kept the window open.”

“Meatballs.”

Harry hummed and kissed his pulse point, his hands soft on the lowest sides of Louis’ neck.

“Ah. I might have eaten one before you woke up.”

“Gross,” Louis laughed. “They’re cold.”

“Still delicious. Do you want crepes for breakfast? I was thinking strawberry or banana with Nutella. I can run to the shops to pick up a few things while you sleep in."

Louis’ eyes fluttered open. 

“Crepes? Do you have time?” 

“I have time. I can stay until eleven.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“I love you.”

“Wow,” Louis laughed, burying his face in Harry’s warm, sleep sweaty neck. “You really, really didn’t like us being angry at each other, did you?”

“No, absolutely not," Harry murmured deeply. He wrapped his arms around Louis and pulled him closer, the sheets hissing around their bodies. He stroked the small of Louis’ back, tracing the divots of muscle with his fingertips. “Sex was pretty outrageous, though.” Louis chuckled and darted his tongue out under Harry’s ear. Harry moaned, rubbing his toes over Louis’ ankle. “And you said I knew how to tease you.”

They got into the shower together, but Harry got out first to run to the shops. Louis came out of his bedroom freshly showered and wearing black yoga pants with a thin, oversized grey sweatshirt bunched at the elbows, his collar slouched lower on his left shoulder. The sound of metal whipping against metal whisked in his ears. He took a deep breath, his breath so deep that he rose up on the balls of his bare feet with his arms stretched high above his head.

The kitchen smelled like sweet, nutty goodness. Butter simmered in a large frying pan. A bowl of batter waited on the counter. Fresh coffee bubbled within its pot. He walked up to Harry at the sink and pressed his face between Harry’s shoulder blades, wrapping his arms around his lower belly.

“Mmm, whip that cream, chef.”

Harry smiled and grabbed a strawberry from a metal bowl. He dipped it in the fresh whipped cream and held it over his shoulder. Louis took a tiny bite before sucking the entire berry off his fingers. Harry chuckled and rolled his bum backwards, Louis kissing the arch of his neck and pressing against him.

"So,” Louis chewed for a moment before continuing, “because you love me, does that means crepes for breakfast every morning?"

"Hmm, dunno." Harry used a wooden spoon to stir warm Nutella inside a glass bowl. "Are you going to fuck my brains out on a regular basis?"

"Like clockwork."

Harry dipped a slice of banana in Nutella.

"I'm sure we can work something out. A cereal, crepe, and Ramsay egg rotation." 

Louis hummed and kissed his neck.

“And alien toast for you.”

Harry lifted the banana slice. Louis tilted his head with his mouth open, but Harry gasped, "Ah," at the last minute and popped it in his own mouth. Louis dug his fingers into Harry's hips, Harry laughing as he chewed. The door buzzed. Harry licked his thumb and asked, “Who’s that?”

“Oh, that’s Niall.”

Harry's brows furrowed as he washed his hands. 

“Niall?”

Louis ran to the door and buzzed Niall in. He unlocked the door and left it open a sliver.

“Yeah,” he said, walking back to the kitchen. Harry's eyes followed the bounce of his hair, the front drying in chunky waves. “I figured he might want to hang out, since he doesn’t usually work weekend mornings, plus Zayn and Liam are going to join us.” Louis went to the sink and soaped up his hands. He dried them quickly on a towel and looked at Harry, wiggling his fingers towards the bowl of fruit. “How can I help?”

Harry blinked at him as he whisked cream. He started to say, “You’re so,” but grew confused, his face scrunching as if he was stumped on a math problem. Louis came up next to him, nuzzling his shoulder with his nose. He gave Harry’s hip an easy squeeze and Harry’s whisks slowed. “You’re so amazing.”

Louis’ lips quirked.

“I’m amazing because I washed my hands?”

“Because you thought to include Niall. Because you offered to help.” Warmth surged from Louis’ smile. “Because you…” Harry turned with the metal bowl of whipped cream against his chest. “Everything.” 

Harry leaned down and kissed Louis with a touch more firmness than he had yet that morning. Louis smiled into their berry sweetened kiss, his hands sliding up the back of Harry's white v-neck tee. The metal bowl clunked on the countertop and Harry took a step back, squeezing Louis' arse through his sweats. Louis boxed him against the counter and sucked on his lips, both exhaling audible breaths through their noses and tilting their heads for another kiss. 

The front door creaked open.

"Have you two finished making up yet?" Niall asked. The door shut, followed by his trainers clunking off in two loud booms. "Ah. I guess not. I was promised crepes, Harold, so I hope you can prep breakfast with Louis attached to you at the tongue."

They smiled and softened their kisses. Harry pecked Louis' top lip, then his bottom lip, Louis tweaking Harry's nipples through his tee.

"Hey," Harry laughed quietly, shying away from a second tweak and cradling his chest with both hands. "They're still a bit sore."

Louis popped a strawberry into his mouth and smiled as he chewed.

"Good."

Harry looped an arm around Louis' lower back and pulled him into his body, their lips fusing together. Louis's fingernails bit through the thin material stretched over Harry's shoulder blades. A soft, breathy moan buzzed into Harry's mouth, one of Louis' hands clutching a fistful of his shirt.

Niall inserted himself between them and scooped up a handful of plump strawberries.

"Does moving make people fuck, like, round the clock? Is it the stress or something?" he asked, chewing while speaking. Harry and Louis laughed softly, ducking their faces away. "Mood swings, too." Niall licked his thumb. "Last night, Haz is crying into his alien pudding. Today, you're about to cream the whipped cream."

Harry grinned and moved the bowl of strawberries out of Niall's reach.

"If you eat all the berries, there won't be any left for crepes."

"You're still trying to make avocado pudding happen?" Louis asked, poking Harry's navel through his shirt. “You’re really determined.”

"You said you liked it! And that it tasted like regular chocolate."

"Yeah, until you said it had avocado in it. Blech."

Harry pecked his disgusted mouth and smiled sweetly.

"Your healthy heart will thank me in forty years."

Louis giggled, "Glad to see you're planning ahead," and pushed Harry's fingers away from his sides.

Zayn and Liam shuffled into the kitchen. Both wore grey sweats with loose t-shirts, Zayn's shiny hair held back by a jagged headband.

“So early,” Zayn said groggily. He crumpled into a kitchen chair and yawned, his voice rising in pitch until he hit falsetto. “Isn’t it Sunday?”

Liam offered them a sleepy smile.

“When we heard about crepes by Chef Styles, we knew the early wakeup was worth it.”

Zayn squinted at his boyfriend.

“Did we?”

Liam snapped Zayn's headband. He sat at the table and crossed his ankles, swaying his feet excitedly.

"It's like we're at a filming of a food show," Liam said, his eyes following Harry around the kitchen. Harry smiled and ladled batter into the pan. Liam took his phone out of his sweatpants pocket and held it up. "I'll record this for your Top Chef audition tape."

Harry laughed properly at that, dimpling over his shoulder and waving a spatula at the camera.

"Oh, we got the best footage of him at the bakery the other day," Louis said as he took out coffee mugs. "It was beautiful. The lighting was perfect because it was so early and his pastries were glowing. Absolutely beautiful."

Harry snuffled and shook his head, lifting a corner of crepe.

"They were just petit fours and croissants."

"Glowing," Louis whispered in Harry's ear in passing. 

Harry glanced at the back of Louis' head and smiled. He remembered the camera and laughed to himself, his cheeks pinking. He flipped a banana and Nutella crepe.

"Alright, so, who wants what? We can do," he gestured towards the bowls of fruit, "bananas or strawberries, with or without Nutella or peanut butter. We could do savoury, too, if you feel like cheese and fruit. I’d just need someone to get the cheese out for me."

"Nutella and banana, please," Zayn said, sitting up straighter. He held his hand out at Liam’s phone and laughed, "Oi, I'm not the celebrity chef.”

Liam smirked and directed his phone to Harry's back.

"Liam?" Harry asked.

"Get a nice shot of those hot legs in action," Zayn whispered to Liam.

"Banana and Nutella for me, too," Liam said. He zoomed in on Harry's arse in his tight blue jeans. He earned a bop on the back of both his head and Zayn’s head from Louis. He rubbed his hair and giggled, "What?"

"Excellent choices," Harry said, oblivious. He added ingredients to the pan. "That's what I'll be having, myself."

"Can I have all ingredients but cheese?" Niall asked. He took a carafe of coffee from Louis. "I'm not craving cheese for once in my life and I feel like I should run with it."

"Sure," Harry said, flipping a Nutella and banana crepe onto a white plate. "Lou?"

"Umm, strawberries and cream for me," Louis said, counting forks and knives in his hands. "Can I have a bite of yours? I don’t want to commit to an entire banana crepe."

"Of course." Harry flipped a second banana and Nutella crepe onto a round white plate. Louis appeared in front of him to take both plates. Harry held onto one plate and arched his brows, his lips twitching. "Be warned: I'm going to stuff mine full of avocado."

Louis smirked slowly.

"We don't even have avocado in house, health freak."

Harry's voice dropped to a lower, smoother tone, a playful smile lighting his eyes.

"How do you know I don't keep one on my person at all times?"

Louis grinned and stepped closer as he held both plates, pressing himself to Harry's front with their eyes locked. 

“Are you seriously trying to use an avocado as a euphemism for a hard-on?”

Liam turned his phone towards himself.

"And this is where the video cuts off," he said with a cheerful smile. He tapped the screen and his phone beeped. “Excellent shoot. Great material. All up until the porn script started flowing. That, I believe, will be unusable.”

Louis laughed, “It wasn’t a porn script,” and dropped the plates on the table. 

“Yeah,” Harry said, unbothered. He dotted strawberries over the crepe waiting in the frying pan. “We save that for our Dropbox.” 

Loud laughs echoed around the kitchen. Louis’ jaw dropped, his face on fire. Fury brewed in his eyes despite the shocked smile freezing his mouth.

“Oh my fucking God, Harry.” He grabbed a clean wooden spoon and playfully whacked Harry’s arse, Harry cackling and dancing out of his reach. “Don’t say that to people!”

“We’ve all probably been in the adjacent room during most of your porn shoots,” Liam said, shrugging. “You can even hear Louis having a phone conversation with his bank in one of our personal favourites.” He sipped his coffee. “I wouldn’t stress about it. Can you grab the sugar, Lou? Strong coffee today.”

Louis took sugar out of a cabinet. Niall ripped one of the banana and Nutella crepes in half. Zayn was asleep on the table; he wouldn’t mind waiting for a new one. 

“Crepes are a total aphrodisiac,” Niall declared before biting into it. “I had crepes with Mini the other day and it was like I took her to Paris. I mean, it was the most magical date I’ve ever been on, but still. We were only down the road. But it was magical. I’d want to have every day be like that day. Like, forever.”

“Oh, did you go to that new French place?” Harry asked, flipping a new crepe onto an empty plate. “The one by the Chandalier?”

“Yeah! Was lovely. Highly recommend. We went there, we had crepes, we’re boyfriend and girlfriend, we rented bikes and rode with those big pieces of bread in the baskets, we--”

“Oh my God,” Louis said in a completely different tone of voice, hearts radiating from his crinkled eyes. The guys all looked at Niall. Even Zayn woke up to smile and wrap his arm around Niall’s shoulders. Fondness filled the room and threatened to burst out the windows. “You’re, like, exclusive?”

“Yeah,” Niall said softly, smiling with Nutella on his bottom lip. “Haz knew already, but...Yeah.” He shared a knowing look with Harry, who smiled wider at him. “It’s pretty sweet!”

. . .

“Hey, Lou?”

Louis shoved a pair of old jeans into his **Donate** bag and kicked a holey t-shirt off his foot towards the **Throw Out** pile.

“Yeah?”

“Have you got any more bubble wrap in there?”

Louis’ sorting slowed. He closed his eyes and took a slow breath in through his nose. He lifted his fingers to his temples and rubbed three forward circles, blowing air even slower out of his rounded lips. 

“Yeah,” he called back, his smile melting into a laugh. “I’ll be right there.”

“Thank you!”

He smiled wider, Harry’s cheerful voice entering the room like an audible sunbeam. He stood and grabbed a few sheets of bubble wrap from on top of his chest of drawers. He walked into the hallway, twisting the bubble wrap in his hands. Harry made perfectly lovely ankle cuffs with bubble wrap. Maybe he could fashion some sort of handcuffs out of the stuff.

When he reached the kitchen, Harry smiled up at him from an open cabinet, his legs spread in a vee. He had his hair in a tiny top knot, his hair not yet long enough for a proper bun. A few short stragglers curled at the bottom of his hairline. He had on a borrowed pair of Louis’ black football shorts, the material riding up his thighs. His creamsicle tank draped elegantly over his torso. 

Individually bubble wrapped pots and pans were organized in size order along the perimeter of the kitchen. Louis bit the inside of his cheek.

“Thank you,” Harry said, holding his hands up.

Louis walked over and handed Harry the bubble wrap, bending lower to peck his forehead. The tension headache brewing at the base of his neck simmered away the minute he could smell Harry’s sweet, warm scent, his hands running down the sides of Harry’s neck. They kissed softly, Harry smiling and hugging him around the backs of his thighs. Louis ran his fingers through the right side of Harry’s hair, smoothing frizzies into his bun.

“You leaving anything for Li to cook with?”

“Yes,” Harry laughed, dropping a kiss on his kneecap. “Liam already marked all the stuff he wanted and it’s stored away.”

Louis cradled the right side of his neck.

“You do know you don’t need to bubble wrap each and every one of my kitchen devices, right? We’re only moving down the street and it’s mostly junk; not nice like your kitchen stuff. We could have just thrown it all in a box and called it a day.”

Harry tilted his head back to gasp.

“Mostly junk? Thrown it in a box? You had no idea you even had this,” he held up an item so heavily wrapped in plastic that it was unrecognizable, “until I pulled it out of the cabinet. You have to handle cooking equipment with care.”

Louis nodded and stared at the object, his lips twitching.

“Very true.”

Harry narrowed his eyes.

“You’ve got no idea what this is, do you?”

Louis’ lips grew into a smile.

“None at all.”

Harry smirked and shook his head, plopping the item into a box.

“It’s an apple corer.”

“Ah, right!” Louis pointed at the box and nodded firmly, his brows pinched together. “My apple corer! I’ve been looking for you! Where have you been hiding?” He waved his finger at the box. “Mischievous apple corer.”

Harry laughed and bent his legs, the bottoms of his feet on the floor and his knees bracketing Louis. He held both sides of Louis’ hips, the back of his head resting on a closed cabinet.

“Am I being a pain?”

“No, love,” Louis said, shaking his head. He stroked Harry’s hair back, getting down to his knees between his spread legs. He flattened to sit on his feet. “It’s cute how prepared you like to be. Last time I moved I think I only had, like, one box of anything. I’ve accumulated a shocking amount of shit while living here. It’s good you’re being so meticulous and we’re weeding all the rubbish out.”

A slow smile spread over Harry’s face. 

“You nearly lost your mind when we did my flat.”

Louis snorted, Harry grinning and thumbing the fronts of his hips.

“I...was not expecting such strictness about packing boxes of books,” Louis said, a diplomatic lightness to his voice. His eyes shimmered. “Or that we’d have an argument about bins.”

“I know, I can’t believe we argued,” Harry said on a laugh. “It was so...Weird.”

Louis’ arms laid on top of Harry’s shoulders, his fingers laced in the back of his hair.

“Was a learning experience.” Louis kissed him, their lips opening enough to barely let their tongues brush. “And all the sex lately has been worth one argument about bins.”

Harry smiled against Louis’ lips, Louis laying small, soft kisses on each corner of his mouth.

“Very true.”

“At least we agreed about a moving company.”

“Yes,” Harry sighed, relieved. He nodded and smoothed his hands down to Louis’ arse. “I will happily pay people to move boxes out of my flat.”

Louis sat back on his feet.

“You hungry?” He rubbed Harry’s stomach. “I can make us a snack.”

“That’d be lovely, thanks.”

Louis squeezed his bun and stood up.

“Sharp cheddar and apple work for you? I think I’ve got some grapes, too.”

“Sounds great.” Harry stood from the floor, brushing his bum off. “Can I take a peek in your room?”

 

“Sure. Be my guest.” Louis opened the refrigerator. “It’s kind of a disaster, though. I’m in the middle of my clothing purge.”

“I know. I just want to see.”

Louis smiled at Harry and closed the fridge with his bum.

“Don’t you worry. I set my old jerseys aside for you. Even the holiest ones that fit you like a crop top.”

Harry chuckled, “Thank you,” as he walked down Louis’ bedroom hallway. Louis was searching for a good knife amidst the bubble wrap when Harry called, “Oh, you’re almost done in here. It’s not bad at all.”

Louis sliced one apple in half. 

“Yeah, it’s not bad. Just a bit crazy to have everything all over the floor.”

“I can help you organize.”

Louis laughed, “Sort my old clothes?” He started to make small slices. “You don’t have to do that, love. They’re already in piles.” He stopped cutting and peered down at the bubble wrapped apple corer. “Wow, he was right," he murmured. "I actually could have used that.”

“I can help with other stuff,” Harry’s voice said in the distance. “Like...Oh, like your electronics. I can help.”

Louis froze in place. His ears pinged.

“What?” he called.

Harry replied, “Yeah. I can unplug and put stuff into boxes. Let’s see.” Something thudded into a cardboard box. “Are the blue cables for the Bluetooth speakers? That makes sense.”

Louis abandoned his apple slices and ran into the bedroom.

“Baby, no, you don’t have to--”

His feet skidded on the hardwood. Every speaker and phone charger was plugged in just as Louis had left them, but he was no longer concerned with wires and plugs.

Harry smiled at him from the bed, naked save for a tight, red TOMLINSON jersey riding up on his abs and down low enough on his biceps to show the beginnings of the soft hair under his arms. He stretched his hands and feet towards each corner of the bed.

“Hi,” Harry said, the left side of his mouth lifting higher than the right.

Louis laughed, “You cheeky minx,” on one quick exhale. He threw his body at the bed and Harry caught his fall, their limbs winding around each other and their lips tangling. “Luring me in here with technology.” He lowered his face and kissed Harry’s exposed stomach, the muscles trembling beneath his firm presses. “And nudity.” Louis moved his face side to side as he kissed Harry’s navel, his hands scratching up under the tight red material of his jersey. “Fuck, you know me so well.”

Harry rolled Louis onto his back and pinned him down with his spread inner thighs, the jersey stuck nearly under his nipples, Louis’ hands cradling his face as their lips sucked and pressed.

. . .

“S’getting chillier out at night.”

Harry’s eyes moved under his closed eyelids, the sound of bare feet coming closer on hardwood. He hummed and stretched his arms towards the headboard. The bed sagged beside him, his eyes cracking open. 

Louis sat to his left with his legs crossed and a tube of lotion resting in his lap. He smoothed lotion up to his wrists, thumbing around the pointed bones. The skin of his lower stomach formed the tiniest crinkles above his waistband, soft looking red sweats bunched at his ankles. Harry reached out and gently gripped his hand, Louis’ eyes sparkling at him.

“C’mere,” Harry murmured, thumbing the fleshy roundness beneath Louis’ thumb. He smiled crookedly, his sleepy eyes blinking slowly. “Can’t resist you in sweats.”

Louis used his feet to push his side of the covers down. He dropped a kiss on the front of Harry’s shoulder and laid half on top of him.

“That’ll come in handy when I get fat and old and wear nothing but joggers.”

Harry squeezed Louis’ right arse cheek.

“Looking forward to it.”

Louis snorted softly and got under the covers. Harry took Louis’ glasses off and reached over across the bed, placing his glasses on his bedside table. Low giggles wracked Harry’s body, gentle fingers prodding under his arm as he stretched. Harry fell onto his back and grinned, his baggy white tee riding up on his stomach and his bent arms flat above his head. Louis linked their ankles together and rested his chin on Harry’s pec.

“I love you,” Harry whispered, Louis slowly smiling. “I love you so much.”

Louis pushed himself high enough to press their lips together. 

“I love you, too.”

“Will you still love me if I don’t make Top Chef?”

Louis’ laugh echoed around the dim bedroom. He shook his head as his laughter softened, cradling Harry’s jawline to kiss him. Their lips smacked for another quick kiss.

“Of course. You’re the most wonderful chef of all time, whether you make it on the show or not.” His fingers started to poke Harry’s upper sides as he rapidly kissed his cheeks. “It’s meant to be fun, yeah?”

Harry guffawed, his smile causing his eyes to crinkle closed. 

“What if I get on the show and I blow it?” A quiet giggle popped out of Harry’s throat but he remained in place, allowing Louis to poke and prod as he pleased. “Make a fool of--Of--” Harry’s arms jerked down, his loud laughter blowing hot air against Louis’ mischievously smiling face; he could only handle playful pokes under his arms for so long. “Of myself?”

Louis squinted at him and thumbed his cheekbone, the heel of his hand cradling Harry’s jawline.

“Nah.” He kissed the tip of Harry’s nose. “Not possible.” Then a soft kiss to his lips. “You make it on, you’re going to thrive. I just know it.”

“How?”

“Because no matter what weird ingredients I’ve been throwing at you, you manage to make incredible food. Savoury along with sweet. And Ravi said you’re his best butchery student ever.”

“I’m his only student ever.”

“Oh, hush. You’re doing amazing. Plus,” Louis smoothed his hand down the side of Harry’s neck, “you’ve got that big old brain within all those layers of beauty.” Harry rolled his eyes and started to laugh, Louis kissing along his jawline. “You’ll be fine, sugar plum.” Louis ran his fingers back through Harry’s hair, Harry’s eyelashes fluttering shut. “Now,” he pressed his lips to Harry’s mouth, “it’s time for sleep.” He nudged a more tender kiss to Harry’s lips, Harry humming and rubbing his foot over Louis’ ankle. “Even Top Chefs need to sleep.”

Harry’s lips barely moved to say, “But I wanna keep kissing you.”

Louis smiled and stroked his fingertips down the arch of Harry’s neck. The light touch made Harry’s eyes move beneath his lids. Louis scratched the back of his hair and kissed him softly. 

“I can keep kissing you.”

Harry took a deep breath, his chest swelling and falling.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” Louis brushed their lips together, his fingernails lightly whirling at the base of Harry’s hairline. “Absolutely.”

“I love you.”

Louis smiled and continued softly tapping his lips against Harry’s mouth, massaging his scalp until Harry’s lips slackened and stopped plumping up to meet his kisses. One firm kiss was pressed to Harry’s brow before he curled around Harry’s side and nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck, hugging him with both arms.

. . .

Louis knocked on the glass wall of Zayn’s office.

“What are you still doing here, overachiever? Aren’t you artsy types irresponsible and lazy?”

Zayn smiled with his eyes on the screen, thick black glasses low on his nose.

“Just finishing up. Terry, of course, waited until the last minute to send proofs. Because everyone wants to get proofs right before a long weekend.”

“Of course. Classic Ter.” Louis leaned back against the wall. “Thought you were going to take a half day? It’s nearly three.”

Zayn lifted his hands with dramatic sways to type his final words, each letter tapping cheerily in the art filled office. 

“I planned on a half day but changed my mind at the last minute. It wasn’t necessary. Simon said to leave whenever I wanted. He didn’t seem to care.” Zayn hit Enter and sat back in his chair, his eyes sparkling at Louis. “And I’ve gotta be an overachiever when my best mate is a future VP and Real House Husband of New York City, you know?”

Louis quietly chuckled, "Ridiculous," and fluttered his lashes as Zayn stood from his desk. Zayn stretched his arms over his head and leaned backwards, his smile growing. “You sure you two don’t want a ride to the airport? Harry said he’d drive you and Li, no problem. We’re going to use his car to get groceries, anyway. I have to meet him at the store once I’m done here.”

“Nah, it’s alright,” Zayn said with a wave of his hand. “Thanks, though. We have, like, basically no luggage. Just one shared duffle bag. We’re not planning on wearing much clothing for our holiday. You know the drill.” He walked around his desk and patted his pockets, clicking air in his back teeth. Louis pointed at the centre of his desk and Zayn hummed, lifting a pile of papers to retrieve his phone. “Keys?”

“Pocket.”

Zayn patted his back pocket again and smiled.

“Good man.” He stepped up to Louis and placed his hands on his shoulders. “Are you sure you two don’t want to join? The deal-coupon-thing is still online. You could totally buy last minute and come with us. Fun in the sun, man!"

“Nah, next time. We just paid for tickets to visit New York and Miami and are so tired from packing, we’d rather just spend the long weekend at our old places, since next weekend is the big move.”

Zayn thumbed Louis’ cheekbone.

“How sentimental and ghost-like. A staycation in an empty flat.”

“It’s not empty,” Louis said on a laugh, pushing his hand away from his hair. “I’m leaving my furniture there for your new guest room slash art studio”

Zayn’s cheeks flushed, the right side of his lips quirking. His keys seemed to jingle in his pocket as if to indicate that they were just as excited about living with Liam as Zayn himself was. Zayn glanced at his watch to look away from Louis' smug smirk.

“Hey, don’t you have interns to torture?”

Louis’ eyes widened.

“Oh, shit. Yeah.” He finger combed his quiff. “They’re probably in the conference room waiting for me.”

“Shaking in their intern boots.”

“Ha. Right.” Louis gave his hair one more fluff and held his arms open. “Have fun, mate.” He and Zayn hugged, both patting each other on the back. “Remember to put sunblock on your willy.”

“As if I’d have to do that. Liam’s on willy duty this weekend.”

Louis left Zayn in his office and went to the conference room. According to Simon, Louis was the best person to break in the new round of fall interns. Louis and Zayn were both internship alumni, plus Louis was present for most rounds of the internship interviews. It made the extra task of welcoming five nervous, enthusiastic, terrified uni students even more logical.

After giving a general overview of how things worked in the office, such as who to call if your Wi-Fi wasn't working or what the casual dress code really meant or the science of the snack delivery schedule, Louis had yet to hear a peep from any of the interns. 

He looked from intern to intern with a calm smile, his hands flaring out from his body.

“Does anyone have any questions or comments?”

They did not return his smile. He chuckled quietly and placed a stack of HR packets on the conference room table. Why Darla from HR did not hand out the packets at her meeting with the interns earlier that day, he would never know.

"I am in no way from the HR department,” he said, handing a packet to an intern, “but we're just going to read through these together. Next week, you all will have individual meetings with Darla."

The interns opened their packets and sat at attention. Each intern held a pen in one hand with their other hand poised at a laptop or iPad or other note-taking device.

“It’s all going to be okay,” Louis said, holding his palms out. “Simone is a great company to work for. The best, in my opinion. They treat everyone so well and the snacks are beyond compare. You’re in good hands. Plus,” he pointed above his head at the clock mounted on the wall, “we’re less than an hour away from the weekend. The long weekend! Early dismissal! Fun stuff, right? Or are the kids too cool for weekends these days?” Their faces softened a touch and Louis smiled, clapping his hands once while nodding. “Excellent! I see some semi-smiles!”

The interns started to chuckle. There was a quiet knock on the glass wall.

“Louis?”

Louis looked over his shoulder. Suzi smiled at him from the doorway. 

“Hey, Suz," he said, his heart giving an extra strong pound. "Alright?”

“Simon asked me to grab you for a quick chat. He’s in his office. It shouldn’t take long.”

“Oh. Uh,” he glanced at the interns, “excuse me one moment. Why don’t you all head to the kitchen? Get some snacks or tea or coffee. Take a break. You have my permission to play with your phones. Please play with your phones. Relax.”

The group sighed in unison, relieved smiles sneaking onto their faces. 

Louis followed Suzi out of the conference room. They walked in silence to Simon’s office at the end of the corridor. Upon reaching the long, glass room, Louis noticed that Simon was not alone. Simone was beside Simon. Avery, the London VP of Design, was also inside, along with every board member scattered around Simon’s desk. 

Suzi smiled and pulled the door open. She held her hand out and Louis stepped into the office. 

“Tomlinson,” Simon said, standing from his desk. His voice was easy and light, but his smiling eyes were focused on Louis’ face. “Come on in. Good to see you.”

Their hands clasped.

“Hello, everyone,” Louis said, going from board member to board member and shaking their hands. “Good to see you all. Everyone well?”

“Yes, yes. All is well,” Simon said. He held his hand out at an empty chair beside Avery. “Please, have a seat. Would you like some tea? Coffee?”

“No, thank you.” Louis shook his head and sat down, flattening his shoes on the floor. “What’s…” His eyes did a slow roll around the room of smiling faces, Avery’s smile especially tight. “What can I do for all of you?”

Avery turned in her seat to face him.

“Well,” she said, folding her hands on her lap. “There’s been a bit of a change in plans for me, in my personal life, and I was wondering if you could help me out with an enormous favour.”

Louis’ confusion only grew, his eyes darting to Simon. He knew Avery’s family from company events, but other than that, he had not interacted much with her husband or children.

“Okay,” he laughed softly, the board members tittering with chuckles. “How can I help?”

Simon grinned and looked at the smiling board.

“See? I told you.” He pointed two fingers at Louis. “Helper bee.”

Louis asked, “But what am I being a helper bee about?”

Avery placed her hand on his forearm, her smile small but kind. She took a deep breath and exhaled through her nostrils. She gently squeezed Louis’ arm, her purple matte lips pressing together before she started to speak.

“My husband’s company is going through a change. In an effort to minimize costs, they are closing some of their smaller offices and consolidating staff. Their London office was the smallest of their fleet, so they’ve offered their London employees the chance to either transfer or seek work elsewhere.” She lifted her hand from Louis’ arm to smooth her geometric blue pencil skirt, her blonde bob swaying beside her cateye glasses. “They’d like to move my husband to their biggest location in New York. He would very much like to keep his position, as he has been with them for a number of years and is quite happy there.”

Louis’ head tilted with his lips stuck together, a puff of air building in his closed mouth. His limbs remained frozen in their casual position while his insides flip flopped like an Olympic gymnast.

“I see,” he exhaled, nodding. His body felt an uncontrollable pull to shift in his seat, but he willed his muscles to be motionless. “That...That makes sense.”

“And so,” her smile widened, Simon grinning in Louis’ peripheral vision, “I was wondering if you would be interested in switching assignments with me. You could stay here in London--”

“And maintain the same offer given to you for the transfer,” Simon gently interrupted.

“--And I would move to New York,” Avery finished, Simon nodding from beside her. Louis’ mouth popped open half an inch. “Would you be willing to consider it?” She clasped her hands in her lap. “It would be an enormous, enormous help for us.”

Louis looked to Simon with round eyes.

“Is this for real?” 

The room laughed boisterously, Avery’s eyes crinkling closed she laughed so much. Simon nodded. 

“Yes, this is for real.” He steepled his fingers on his desk. His head did a gentle roll around the room. “The board and I are fine with it if you are. We can simply change your training schedule to reflect the new location. The proposed timeline would remain the same.”

Louis’ throat bobbed. His eyes felt dry and his chest was tight; he couldn’t remember the last time he blinked or breathed.

“Right, uh,” he said, his lashes fluttering. “I…”

“I’m sure you’d like to talk it over with your family. And your chef,” Simon said, Simone hiding her smile with her hand. Louis was aware of his cheeks flaring bright pink, but his other senses were in such a state of overdrive he didn’t mind blushing like a schoolboy in front of the entire board. “Why don’t you take the weekend?”

“Alright. That sounds...That’s…” Louis shook his head slightly, light flickering to life on his face. “Actually.” He held back a bubbly round of giggles, his voice buoyant. “I can tell you right now that my answer is going to be yes, whether it’s today or Tuesday.” He heard a sharp intake of breath beside him and smiled at Avery, whose eyes glittered with tears behind her glasses. “I’ll talk it over with Harry, but I know his answer is going to be yes, as will my family say yes. So, yes. Yes, please.” He looked to Simon and nodded. “I’d love to stay in London and would be honoured to be VP of Design, no matter the location.”

Avery threw her arms around him and Louis laughed, hugging her with a hand flat between her shoulder blades. She lifted her face from his neck to squint.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“I’m sure.” Louis rubbed her back, Avery exhaling audibly through her rounded lips. “Are you sure? You’re ready to move the family to New York?”

“Not in the slightest,” she laughed, Louis grinning warmly. “But we can figure it out. We will figure it out.”

“Alright,” Louis said with a firm nod.

“Alright.”

They stared at each other for a moment before they both burst out laughing. The board members moved around them, some patting Louis on the back, others hugging Avery. Simon came up beside Louis and ruffled the back of his hair in passing.

“Simon,” Louis said as he jogged to stand next to him. Simon turned to face him, his brows arched lazily. “Erm,” Louis smoothed his hand over his messy hair, “I was wondering if I could talk to you about, uh,” his shy smile threatened to burst into a goofy grin, “something. Like, what you said about…Uh...”

A small smirk curled Simon’s lips.

“What I said about what? I say a lot of things. You’ll have to be more specific, Tomlinson.”

Louis’ head shook side to side as he smiled. He felt his cheeks burn even redder, some of his earlier giggles emerging in a burst of quick breaths.

“What you said about Tiffany’s,” Louis said, looping his thumbs in his pockets. Simon’s smirk turned to a smile that held an equal amount of smugness. “Or Cartier.”

. . .

“Here we are. Five lamb shanks. Finally.”

Harry’s cheek dimpled as he smiled. He reached out and accepted the white wrapped package from Ravi.

“Thanks so much.” He placed them in his basket. “I’ll send you a photo of the finished product. Lou is so excited to try lamb. Hopefully the recipe I’m planning works out.”

“You should splice in your lamb shank adventure with your Top Chef audition.”

“That would have been fun, but we actually sent that in already.”

“Did you!?”

“Yeah, a few days ago,” Harry said, smiling lopsidedly. "Some bakery footage, some cooking at home footage. Some sweet, some savoury. Some, like, normal stuff. Just us playing tennis or walking around."

Ravi pounded his fists on top of the glass counter.

“That’s awesome!”

Harry chuckled.

“Who knows what will happen with it, but it was fun to make all the clips. Louis’ got some experience with editing software, so he was...” Harry felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket, his hips tilting ever so slightly away from Ravi. “He was able to put the clips in an order that makes sense.”

“Nice.”

Harry took his phone out and smiled at the screen. 

“Sorry," he glanced up at Ravi, "I’ve got to take this. Dinner soon?”

“Yeah, for sure. See you, mate. Tell Lou I said hello. Good luck with the lamb.”

“Will do, thanks,” Harry said, waving over his shoulder. He walked towards the produce aisle and tapped the Accept button. He held his phone to his ear and smiled. “Hello, love. You on your way? I’ve secured the lamb.”

“I don’t have to move!” Louis’ voice shouted through the phone. His voice was so loud the reception crackled, but he continued to shout, "I don't have to move! I don't have to move!"

Harry laughed softly and rested his phone between his shoulder and ear. He picked up a container of strawberries.

“Well, you’ll have to move a bit to change positions and who is spooning who, but, yeah,” he switched cartons and checked the bottom for mushy ones, “we can be pretty lazy this weekend.”

“No, Harry, no,” Louis said, laughing and out of breath. Harry could hear rustling through the phone, as if Louis was running on the street. “I don’t have to move to New York! There was--”

“What!?” Harry said, his loud bark startling an old man bagging plums beside him. The strawberries fell into his basket. "What was that!?" Harry’s voice was even louder to ask, “What did you say!?”

Louis giggled, “I don’t have to move to New York!”

“You don’t have to move to New York!?” 

“I don’t have to move to New York! I can stay!”

Harry jogged towards the registers, his free hand blindly reaching out for last minute items as if he was on a supermarket game show.

“What? How!? What!?”

“I’ll explain when I see you. Oh, good God,” Louis said, even more breathy. He panted a moment, horns blaring through the phone. “I truly am shit at running when I don't have your junk to look at. But it’s--It’s Avery. The VP here. Her husband has to move to New York for work and so she wants to move with him." Louis' voice went higher as if he was singing a scale. "So, I get to stay with you!”

Harry grabbed a loaf of bread for the final leg of his sprint to the register and clutched it to his heaving chest. He stumbled, his feet causing his body to spin in a circle as he continued jogging.

“We get to live in our flat! Together!”

Louis’ laughter crackled in his ear.

“Are you shouting in the middle of the store?”

Harry paused and looked around himself with the most ecstatic grin stretched across his face. The sound of mellow music and beeping registers filtered back into his ears. A few shoppers were smirking and glancing at him as they shopped, along with a grumpy older man pushing past him and muttering, “Bloody disturbance. Always making a scene.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, his voice only a shade softer. He sucked in a breath and pushed his hair back from his face. "I might have just waltzed with a baguette." 

Louis' laughter rang loud and high.

"That might be the most you thing I've ever heard."

“But, oh my God, Lou!" Harry whispered with extreme excitement, his voice shaking. "This is amazing!” 

“I know!”

Harry heard Louis’ voice in his ear, but also heard it echoing in the store. He spun around, his arms sticking out from his sides without his control, his phone clutched in one hand with his basket clutched in the other.

“You’re here!” he cried.

Louis barrelled into him so hard that Harry’s breath was stolen away, but both laughed and hugged, Harry’s arms wrapped tight around Louis’ back. The grumpy plum man wheeled past him. His tiny, amused smirk was not noticed by the hugging duo.

“Hurry up and pay,” Louis said, walking them sideways without breaking their hug. They just missed bumping into the grumpy plum man. “Wanna get home and do filthy things to you and then gorge on lamb.”

“But you didn’t pick out your snacks yet.”

Louis started pulling items out of Harry’s basket.

“Chinese delivery,” he said, placing eggs on the register belt. “Curry take away.” Then came the lamb shanks wrapped in white butcher paper. “Fancy sandwiches from that place with the iced coffee.”

“Oh, yeah,” Harry nodded and started to unpack his items along with Louis, “that’s a good place. Great sauces.”

“Besides,” Louis gripped a container of grapes, “you always get the fun stuff.”

“True.”

Louis went for his wallet and Harry grunted. He bumped his hip against Louis and handed the cashier his card. Louis was too busy rubbing his hand over Harry’s arse to fight him on who paid for their weekend groceries.

They threw the grocery bags into the boot of Harry’s car and sped off to Louis’ flat. It was difficult to walk up the steps, carry groceries, and grope each other all at the same time, but they managed. They tumbled inside the flat and tossed the groceries on the countertop. Louis pressed himself against Harry and seared their lips together, both hurrying to pull items out of the reusable grocery bags.

“What has to go in the fridge?”

“Erm,” Harry’s reply was swallowed by Louis’ persistent lips, “just the,” Harry dropped a box of crackers to the floor to free up his hands and squeeze Louis' arse cheeks, “fruit and cheese.” Their lips sucked fiercely as their bodies bumped against the counter. They nudged a grocery bag and it tipped over, bags of spinach and beetroot rolling out alongside a puzzle book. “Eggs and cream, too.”

“Did them already.” Louis held the waistband of Harry’s jeans and walked backwards, Harry guiding their trip to the bedroom hallway with his hands cupping Louis' cheeks, their lips smacking together. “What about our ice cream?”

“I put it away already.”

Louis tore his lips from Harry’s mouth and asked, “It? It, as in,” their lips sucked and they fell sideways into the wall, “singular?”

Harry hummed into a kiss and squeezed Louis’ arse with both hands, lifting him high enough for Louis' shiny black shoes to lift off the ground.

“I got coconut.”

Breathlessly, Louis asked, “What about hazelnut?”

Harry’s lips curved into a smile.

“Oops.”

“Did you forget the hazelnut ice cream on purpose?”

“Maybe,” Harry drawled, holding out the word. Louis laughed, shocked, and prodded his stomach, Harry giggling boyishly. "I’m kidding! I warned you that you didn't get your snacks!"

"Maybe you just want to be punished."

"Maybe," Harry said deeper, his voice shivering with unsung laughter.

Louis pulled him into his body and tried for a kiss, but giggled with their lips touching.

“I can’t punish you today. Today’s a day of celebration.”

They hurried into the bedroom, leaving a trail of reusable grocery bags in their wake. 

Harry pushed Louis onto his back on the bed and pulled his shoes off, Louis unbuttoning his black skinnies as Harry's lips sucked kisses to his inner ankles. Harry gripped Louis’ waistband, tugging down his skinnies and black boxer briefs at the same time. Louis arched his back and tried to pull off his white button up, but breathless laughter puffed his stomach outward, his tight shirt pinning his arms together above his head with material blocking his face.

"Oi," he laughed, rolling side to side and kicking his legs, bucking Harry's prodding fingers away from the dips above his hips. "You--" He wiggled and laughed, his arms attempting to lower as Harry's fingers crawled higher on his sides. "You shit!"

"I couldn't help myself."

Louis gasped and freed his face from the material, Harry's lips pressing to his mouth and teasing his tongue inside. He threw his shirt at Harry's face. Harry managed to rid himself of all clothing in the amount of time it took for Louis to escape from his shirt.

"Definitely getting punished."

"Oh, yeah?" Harry asked, unconcerned. He flattened on top of Louis and cradled his face with both hands, Louis' mouth open with his eyes glued to Harry's lips. "We already packed the cuffs."

Louis moaned softly when Harry's plush lips pressed against his own, one of Harry's hands sliding around to smooth down the small of his back.

"I'll improvise," Louis said, joining their lips and catching Harry's low laugh with his tongue.

Louis knew from past experiences that if Harry was being taken from behind, sucking on Harry’s ears while giving his nipples a bit of extra hard attention made him absolutely shoot through the roof. Sometimes, just breathing on Harry’s ears or accidentally brushing against his nipples at the right time of day made him harden in his pants.

It made perfect sense that Harry was well aware that he could get Louis to squirm and whine in no time with a bit of teenage humping and groping while tonguing him. Harry’s hands were never too rough but never too gentle as they touched whatever part of Louis he could get his hot palms on, his relentless kisses making Louis moan into his mouth and arch up against him.

“I fucking love it when you get so sweaty,” Harry said, his voice deeper than usual. His mouth buzzed the lowest curve of Louis' neck as he murmured, “Fucking gorgeous.” He pushed Louis' right arm up above his head and sucked the crease of his arm. “You feel so hot.” He lathed his tongue beside his nipple and moved his face higher. “Smell so good.”

Louis’ toes curled at the end of the bed as his throat released a high pitched, weak whimper, Harry’s mouth sucking hard just below where his underarm hair began. Harry nipped the hairless skin and swirled his tongue, the mixture of hot and ticklish making Louis howl.

“M’body feels like it’s on fire,” Louis gasped out, his bicep clenching. He felt sweat racing down the sides of his neck and stomach to pool in his navel and collarbones, Harry’s hot breaths on his skin only pushing more sweat out of every pore. “Oh, fuck, you--” Harry bit higher and lathed his tongue into his hair, Louis’ legs spasming and his back arching. “Fuck, Harry. Fuck.”

Harry lifted his face only to pin both of Louis’ wrists and switch to his other side, snarling his lips and biting his nipples on the way. Louis’ moan was even weaker when Harry’s lips sucked the top of his ribs. Throaty, sloppy sounds matched up with the sharp swipes of Harry’s teeth and wet suck of his lips. Louis wrapped his legs around Harry and tilted his head, Harry kissing his neck with quick, furious sucks.

“Fuck punishment,” Louis said, grinding their cocks together, “just want you.” He rolled Harry onto his back and straddled him. He gripped Harry’s cock to anchor himself. “Though I think I’m still going to tie you up.”

Harry moaned and smiled into a hot kiss, their kisses hissing as their nostrils sucked in audible breaths.

“Oh yeah?” Harry squeezed Louis’ arse cheeks. “How is that punishment for me?”

Louis’ lips quirked, his hand tightening around Harry’s cock. He sucked Harry’s lips for a long moment before he lifted up and hopped off the bed, unbothered by his cock slapping against his belly. 

Harry remained on his back. His chest heaved up and down with Louis’ sweat still shining on his chest. He licked his lips, his eyes following Louis’ stroll to his closet. Louis turned to face him.

“These are in the **Throw Out** pile because they’re old and shot.” Louis lifted his hands high enough to reveal two ties; solid red and forest green with pale blue stripes. He gripped the ties with both hands and snapped the material taut. “But I thought maybe we could use them one more time.” He snapped them and Harry exhaled. “I know you’re fond of my ties.”

Harry spread his arms and legs without breaking eye contact. 

It took Louis all of two minutes to tie his wrists to the bed frame. The ties were tight enough to hold him in place but loose enough so as not to cut off circulation. 

“Found some random stuff when I was doing my clothing purge,” Louis said, situating himself on Harry’s groin. Harry’s hazy eyes twinkled as he smiled, his hips rolling upwards. Louis’ smirk grew. He reached to his bedside table. “A few old items.” He stuck his hand in the drawer and pulled out lube. “Figured you might want to see, seeing as you’re so organized with the move.”

Confusion fogged Harry’s flushed face. His fingers and toes wiggled, his hips shifting under Louis’ weight. He glanced at the drawer as Louis pulled out a slender dark blue vibrator. Harry’s brows arched.

“What are you…” His lips pursed in a perfect circle. The lube was uncapped with a quick flick of Louis’ thumb. Harry’s eyes widened as Louis slicked up the vibrator. “What are you doing?”

“Prepping myself for you.” 

Louis gripped the vibrator with his left hand and reached behind himself with his right hand. His legs spread and his hips pushed forward. The sides of his abs clenched and became more defined, his face directed over his shoulder. 

Harry’s eyes left trails of heat as his gaze raced up and down Louis’ torso, from the lightly haired creases of his thighs to the slight flex of his biceps as he situated himself. Louis rested his wrist on top of Harry’s cock and sat back, the pressure causing Harry’s lower stomach muscles to flutter. 

Two of Louis’ fingers teased inside his entrance before he pressed his wrist harder against Harry’s cock and changed his approach, his next press going in up until his knuckles. A soft moan fell from his parted lips as he lifted and lowered himself.

“Untie me.”

Harry’s gruff, quiet request made Louis smile wider. His head fell back and lolled on his neck, another quiet sound of pleasure puffing from his slick lips.

“Louis.”

“Nah,” Louis rasped with a shake of his head. His fingers made an especially wet sound for his next press inwards, his throat visibly bobbing before he gasped and shivered. The headboard banged against the wall, Harry’s straining cock rubbing over Louis’ wrist, their sweaty skin catching as they moved. “Figured I would break out the vibe for a surprise, but it works well as a punishment, don’t you think?”

“Untie me, please.”

“No.”

“Louis.”

“Say fondant if you want out.”

“No.”

“Then tough shit.”

“Louis. Please?”

Louis ignored Harry’s request and turned the base of the vibrator to the first setting. Dull vibrations buzzed on the tips of his fingers. 

“What do you think?” he asked Harry. He positioned the tip of the vibrator between Harry’s cock and balls and pressed it to his skin. Harry’s entire body stiffened as if he was electrocuted, the tendons of his arms straining and the bed frame creaking. “Too slow?” Louis lifted the vibe and clicked to the next setting until the vibrations were audible. He placed it directly on Harry’s balls and Harry gasped aloud, shaking his head, his cock twitching up against his belly. “Faster, then?”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said loudly over him, his legs squirming on the bed. “I’m so sorry I forgot your ice cream. It won’t--” His eyes clenched shut, his lower body arching for more contact with the vibrations teasing his most sensitive skin. “It won’t happen again.”

Then the vibrations were gone.

“Dunno if I believe you.”

Louis positioned the vibe at his own arse. He held Harry’s gaze as he pressed it inside himself, his left eye crinkling ever so slightly shut. Harry’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes bobbed up and down to follow Louis’ gentle undulations, the vibrator making half-muffled, wet sounds within Louis’ grip.

“Please, put that down and get on me.” Harry’s chest heaved as he spoke, his voice fluctuating from low growl to gentle plea. “Please, Louis, please, I’m--”

“Ah!” Louis cried out deeply, his body shuddering forward. Harry’s round eyes strained to look around Louis’ body. Louis’ arm pumped the toy in and out of himself. “Just found my fucking spot,” Louis said on a rasp, biting his bottom lip. He flattened his right hand on the centre of Harry’s chest, his fingernails digging into his sweaty flesh. “Oh, God,” his lower body started to move as if he was riding Harry, instead of the vibrator, “feels so good.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’ll make you hazelnut ice cream every fucking day for the rest of our lives.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes! Now, please! Get on me, for fuck’s sake. Please!”

Louis turned the vibrator on higher and fell forward, his face settling in the crook of Harry’s neck. He moaned, “Awfully impatient,” and rubbed his cock against Harry’s groin.

“Don’t even pretend you’re not just as ready to go. You would have let me bend you over in the grocery store, you were so worked up.”

Louis smiled and hummed, opening his mouth to suck at Harry’s collarbone.

“Is that so, love? How do you know?”

“I can smell that you’re gagging for it,” Harry whispered into Louis’ sweaty hair. He felt Louis smiling wider against his skin and bent his legs, caging Louis in with his inner thighs. “You’re fucking dripping. That’s not lube on my stomach, love.” He arched his head backwards and Louis kissed over his Adam’s apple, his nostrils sending spurts of hot air to fluff the tips of Harry’s hair. “Your hands are shaking,” Harry continued softly. “You keep licking your lips. You know what my mouth tastes like; what it feels like. And you want it.” Louis’ tongue paused mid-lick on his top lip. “You’re soaked. Sweaty. You wanna fuck me as badly as I want you to ride me until the bedframe breaks.”

Louis removed the vibrator and tossed it on the ground. 

“Your version of dirty talk has saved the day.” The toy buzzed on the hardwood, Harry laughing gruffly. Louis’ hair fell into his eyes as he adjusted his position on Harry’s groin. “God, do you work me up. I can never edge you properly because you’re so fucking hot.”

“You did a fine job. You always do.”

Louis smiled crookedly and flattened his palms on Harry’s pecs. He sank back and squirmed for a moment, reaching behind himself. He started to bounce at a fast, rough pace with his hand wrapped around the base of Harry’s cock. 

Harry hissed, his heels shifting on the bed, and arched upwards. Louis slid his hand back to Harry’s chest and braced himself. The bed creaked, the headboard rhythmically slapping against the wall.

“Gagging for it, hmm?” Louis asked, speeding up his bounces. Harry pulled at the ties as Louis’ tongue toyed with his own, their lips panting hot breaths into each other’s mouth. Louis sealed their lips together. “Seems like you’re gagging for it, yourself.”

“Always gagging for you. Want you all the time. Feels so fucking good.”

Louis said over him, “You feel so good you--You make me crazy. Fuck.” Louis’ motions grew frantic, Harry’s groans lining up with each hard grind of their bodies together. “Fuck, Harry--”

“Uh huh,” Harry nodded, tilting his head with his lips open. Louis kissed him hard, the squeezing grip around Harry’s cock bordering on too tight. “You too. Make me crazy.”

“You make my--” Louis’ face scrunched and he bent over. His shoulders shivered uncontrollably, drops of his sweat pelting Harry’s chest. “You make my stomach hurt, you get me so hot. Fuck, you’re so hot.”

Harry quickened his upwards thrusts. His mouth opened wider than Louis’ lips as they wetly kissed, a shuddered gasp choked out of his throat.

“Mmm, yeah, love, make me--Oh, fuck,” he blurted out, his hips losing control, “m’gonna come if you--” Louis fell forward face first into Harry’s neck, his arse squeezing for one long beat. Harry’s voice was thin to gasp out, “If you keep doing that so t-tight, oh--Oh, fuck!”

Louis made a low, droned sound against his neck and Harry moaned back at him, his voice breaking to chant, “Lou, Lou, Lou,” before Louis’ body clenched around him again and again and again, the headboard slapping the wall for each bounce. “Oh, God, fuck--You feel so fucking amazing--So--”

Harry gasped and arched his back, his wrists aching as he pulled the ties hard. The headboard slapped the wall loud enough to shake the floor as Harry shot hot into Louis’ fluttering body. Relentless waves of pleasure caused his vision to blur, all while Louis whimpered softly and shuddered on top of him.

“Oh, fucking goddamn, you’re so fucking tight tonight,” Harry rasped, his chest swelling as he panted breaths. “Louis...You…” Harry’s nose wrinkled for a moment, his hips shifting side to side. “Can you, uh,” Harry breathed faster, his hips attempting to move under Louis’ weight, “can you, like--” 

Harry throatily barked, “O-Oh, ow,” and tipped his head back against the pillow. He winced and pulled at the ties. “Lou--S’just--I’m a little sensitive ‘cause I--And you keep--Ow. Ow.” He swallowed and looked for Louis’ face, but felt only frantic breaths wetly slapping against his neck, sweat shining down Louis’ shaking spine. “Lou, can you just--Can you move a little? You’re squeezing me really tight and it kind of h-hurts. It’s starting to hurt.”

Harry heard no reply besides Louis’ voice barely whispering, “F-Fuck.” 

[Kaiser Chief - I Predict A Riot](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hamKl-su8PE)

“Louis?”

Louis’ face pressed against Harry’s collarbone, his voice hiccupping, “O-Ow, ow, ow,” and his body clenching.

“Ow,” Harry echoed, his voice harmonizing with Louis’ as they traded pained groans. “Babe, you’re not moving, you’re just…” 

Harry tilted his head left and looked down Louis’ body. Immediate fear cooled his sweat in a clammy, full-body film. Every one of his senses switched to high alert.

“Lou, you’re not hard. Louis. Louis! What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“Fuck,” Louis gasped out, curling tighter on top of Harry. “It’s coming true. My premo--” 

Louis cried out a loud, deep wail and pressed his face into Harry’s neck. His body clenched so tightly around Harry that Harry shouted with him, his arms pulling at the ties and banging the headboard against the wall. 

“Louis!”

“Fuck, oh God,” Louis whimpered. “My--My premonition.” Salty moisture stung the corners of his eyes, his insides threatening to purge out through his navel. “Death during s-sex.”

“What!? Louis,” Harry said, calm but firm. “Untie me. Now. Please, love, just untie me. Please. I need to help you.”

Louis reached one hand up to shoulder level before he whimpered and closed in on himself, crying out in pain again.

“Oh, fuck, my side. I can’t lift my arms.”

The headboard banged rapidly against the wall, Harry’s legs kicking at the bottom of the bed. Each kick caused Louis’ body to bounce, which only made Louis shout in pain for each jerk of his body.

“Oh, please, stop--Stop moving,” Louis begged, hot tears dripping down to pool below his nostrils. Louis held himself and heaved out a shaky breath. “Hurts too much.”

“Louis, untie me. Please, please,” Harry pleaded, his biceps bulging as he pulled at the ties. “I need to take you to hospital right away.”

“Can’t move.”

The headboard slapped hard enough for some of the paint to flake off the wall.

“Louis, please! Please,” Harry said, softer, trying to remain calm. Sweat raced down every inch of him, the heat and weight of Louis’ body like a shivering furnace. “Please, just try to untie my wrists. Just one, love. Or get the scissors from the floor. By your closet. You can do it.”

Louis tried to reach up again and fell forward with a cry, Harry’s cock slipping out of his arse.

“Oh god, you can’t see me like this, holy fuck, no,” Louis exhaled on one laboured breath. His words morphed into a long, loud, “Ahhhh!” and he shook his head, his eyes scrunched shut and his mouth in a flat line. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna leak,” he shuddered for a few seconds, mumbling nonsense under his breath, “I can’t--You can’t--Fuck! Fucking ow!”

The headboard banged rhythmically, the bangs growing louder and louder. The sound of fabric tightening to the brink of tearing pinged in the air for a split second before the fabric gave and ripped, the headboard booming against the wall. Harry’s warm hand soothed over the drenched skin of Louis’ back, touching his outer arms and smoothing down the back of his neck.

“It’s alright, love. You’ll be fine,” Harry said, his voice a smooth, gentle presence amidst the agonizing pain shaking Louis’ every cell. “Your appendix is probably going bad. That’s all. No big deal.” Harry’s torso moved under Louis’ body as he pulled at the other tie. “Gemma had it happen to her. You’re going to be fine, love. Totally fine. Have you been having stomach issues lately?”

“Harry,” Louis said gravely. 

Harry’s hands flattened on Louis’ face. Sweat poured down from Louis’ hairline to dampen the pads of his fingers. Louis looked as if he just got out of a swimming pool, his eyes sagging.

“What does that have to--Shit, you have a fever.” He felt Louis’ forehead with the back of his hand. “Oh, shit, that’s bad. Fevers are bad with appendicitis. We don’t have any time to waste.”

“Bad!?”

“We have to go to the hospital.” Harry kissed his forehead and moved his legs over the edge of the bed. “I’ll drive you. You’re going to be fine.”

“No, no, I don’t need hospital,” Louis insisted, his words tumbling quickly out of his trembling mouth. “I’ll be fine. It’s probably just a fever. You have a good parking spot. I’ll be fine.”

Harry’s jawline set, his eyes focused completely on Louis’ red, sweaty face.

“We’re going to the hospital. No questions about it. I’ll help you get dressed.”

“I--I,” Louis’ mouth moved silently for a moment, his cheeks growing rosier, “need to use the toilet.”

“Okay, I’ll help you.”

Louis cried, “No! No, thank you. I love you, but that is not happening.” His throat bobbed, his clammy hand flat on the centre of Harry’s bare chest. “Not even when we’re eighty.”

Harry put his hands on his naked hips and jutted his weight left.

“You can’t even stand up straight right now, Louis!”

“Just--Just,” Louis swirled his hand towards the bathroom, “help me in there and let me deal with it alone. I’ll be quick.”

“Fine. But I’ll be right outside if you need me.” Harry slid an arm around Louis’ upper back with his other arm looped under the backs of his thighs. “C’mere, love.” 

“No,” Louis whimpered. His feet swayed as his hands weakly pushed at Harry’s chest. “You don’t have to carry me. I can walk. I meant to help me walk, not--”

“Louis William Tomlinson,” Harry said nearly on a growl, his teeth clenched. “I’m not fucking playing this game with you right now. Let me help you before you injure yourself. Stop being so fucking stubborn.”

Harry lifted him bridal style as if he weighed nothing. Louis exhaled and his weight seemed to sag in Harry’s arms.

Softly, Louis asked, “Is your wrist okay?” and blinked his big eyes up at Harry, fingers grappling against his bare skin. 

Harry’s stern expression softened like a stick of butter left in the sun. He nodded and squeezed him.

“I’m fine, love. My wrist is fine.”

Louis’ eyes clenched shut, his head falling sideways onto the front of Harry’s shoulder, his body trembling violently.

“Fuck,” Louis whispered, shuddering. “This--This hurts.”

“It’ll be over soon,” Harry said, setting Louis down on the closed toilet seat. He kissed Louis’ forehead, dropping quick kisses to each of his damp cheeks. He reached up for two clean flannels and turned on the sink. “You’ll be fine. We just have to be fast.”

Harry held out the warm flannels. Louis accepted them, then paused. He handed one back to Harry, jutting his chin towards Harry’s groin. Harry snorted, the air from his snort propelling Louis’ hair to stick up in the front. He gently kissed Louis’ mouth, Louis exhaling into the kiss and resting his nose against Harry’s chin. 

They took care of their washing business in separate rooms. Harry grabbed whatever clothes he could find on the floor of Louis’ donation-filled bedroom. When Louis called out, “Harry?” Harry opened the bathroom door before Louis even finished the, ‘Har--,’ part of his name. 

Harry’s brows arched. Louis sat curled in a ball on the end of the closed toilet lid. He had his glasses on, his contact case left in a puddle of solution on the sink top.

“You ready, love?”

Louis nodded. Harry stepped inside and handed Louis a pair of loose grey sweatshorts. He knelt in front of the toilet and tucked the neckline of his creamsicle tank over Louis’ head. He could smell Louis’ sweat, sharp and ripe, despite his best attempts with the soapy flannel. Louis’ head lolled forward and back on his neck, bursts of pain scrunching his eyes closed every few seconds. 

Harry eased the tank low enough to slip Louis’ arms in the oversized sleeves without causing his wrists to rise. He pushed the material down and took the shorts from Louis.

“I can do those,” Louis said, his shaking hand gripping the material. Both he and Harry helped stick his legs in the shorts. Louis’ voice quietly scoffed, “What a perv. Making me freeball to hospital.”

Harry smiled despite the layer of stress sweat coating his entire body. He left Louis to grab his black Toms and slipped them on his feet. Louis started to stand.

“Ow,” he winced, wobbling backwards. Harry’s arms caught him. Louis sighed and wilted into Harry’s body. He wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist, both taking slow steps out of the bathroom. “You look cute in that.”

Harry bent sideways and gripped the strap of an old black rucksack. His brows furrowed, his voice confused to ask, “In what?”

Louis’ mouth opened to reply, but a weak cry came out instead, his fingers digging into Harry’s upper back. Harry shouldered the rucksack on the side not occupied by Louis’ weight.

They made it to the front door as fast as Louis’ body would allow. Harry propped Louis on the doorframe and locked the door. He shouldered both rucksack straps.

“Alright,” he said, bending his knees and sliding his hand around Louis’ lower back. “Time to go.” 

Louis shied away, but gripped Harry’s jersey from the centre of his chest.

“You don’t have to carry me. I’m fine.”

Instead of getting angry or tense, Harry merely laughed and scooped Louis into his arms, squishing his body into as small of a ball as he could. 

“You’re not walking these steps, love.” He kissed the pointed peak of the back of Louis’ jawline. Louis’ sweat smelled even stronger there, the tips of his hair curled and darkened. “Besides, you always hate cardio.”

“No, I don’t,” Louis admitted quietly, sounding tired. He winced and held on around Harry’s shoulders. “I like it with you. I used to find it boring, but now I love it because we do it together. I just like to tease you.” He groaned and dug his fingers into the meat of Harry’s bicep, whimpering, “I’m sorry for lying. I didn’t mean to.”

Harry laughed again, softer, and kissed Louis’ damp temple, his long legs quickly scaling the steps two at a time like a heroic giraffe.

“You’re not lying, you’re just teasing. I know that. Just relax, love. You’re in pain and not thinking straight. Think happy thoughts.”

Louis’ exhausted, raspy voice murmured, “Hazelnut ice cream.”

They both giggled, but Louis cried out in horror immediately upon laughing. 

“Oh, no, don’t laugh,” Harry said, holding Louis’ tighter. He made it to the bottom floor. “Squeeze my arm or pull my hair or something.”

“Pull your hair? I’m not trying to turn you on. I’m trying to avoid having my insides explode.”

Harry kicked the front door open. 

“I meant for the pain,” he said, amused. His breaths became slightly more laboured, his legs breaking into as gentle a jog as he could manage. “To distract yourself.” 

They reached his car and Harry opened the door of the back seat. Louis’ hand shot out towards the car. Harry hitched him in his arms, asking, “What?”

Louis balanced with one hand holding the car, the other fisting the centre of Harry’s shirt.

“I should be up front.”

“Don’t you want to lie down? You’ll be more comfortable.”

“I need to be buckled.”

“You can be buckled in the back.”

“Harry,” Louis practically growled, “I’m not an infant. I’m sitting in the front.” He reached for the passenger’s side handle. “Ow, fuck,” he curled up, Harry struggling to hold onto his squirming body, “fuck, ow, fuck.”

“Alright, alright, fine! Stop moving! You can go in the front.” 

Harry lifted him high enough to get his bum on the seat and guided his legs to the side. Louis’ foot accidentally made contact with Harry’s gut and his elbow jammed hard against Harry’s jaw, but Harry continued to position him in the seat as if everything was normal. Harry gripped the seat belt and Louis whimpered, pushing his hand away.

“Louis,” Harry said, matching his low growl. Sweat drenched the back of Harry's neck and behind his ears, his shirt sticking around his navel, adrenaline and anxiety prickling beneath his skin. “You can’t lift your arm. Let me buckle your bloody seat belt.”

Louis shut his eyes and sank back on the leather seat. The seat belt stretched around him and clicked into place, a soft kiss dropped on his cheek before the door slammed. He tried to breathe in as calmly as he could as the car rumbled and vibrated.

“Want to do breathing exercises?”

Louis’ eyes moved beneath his lids.

“Unless there have been advances in science that I’m unaware of, I don’t believe, contrary to what you and Niall hope, I’m going into labour.”

Harry laughed before starting to mimic lamaze breaths, pushing air through the back of his teeth twice on, “Hee,” and following with a long, “Oooh,” as an exhale. “Do it with me,” he said, Louis squirming as he made pained laughing noises. “It’s calming.”

Louis sighed but started to breathe with Harry. Buildings and people enjoying the beginning of the weekend zipped by in their peripheral vision. Music from a marching band playing at a colourful street fair honked into the car as they passed. 

“Harry?”

“Yeah, love?”

“Where are we going?”

“[UCH](https://www.uclh.nhs.uk/Pages/home.aspx).”

“Posh boy, even in times of trouble.” 

Harry smiled despite the sweat trickling down the sides of his neck. 

“I’m not going to take you to a walk-in when your appendix is bursting.” He stepped on the gas. “Let’s keep the calm breaths going, alright? You’re doing so well.”

Louis peered at him through one squinted eye. 

“You were born to coach people through labour.” 

Harry laughed as an extra sharp pain drilled into Louis’ lower right side. Louis’ legs flailed, his Toms plopping onto the floor. Harry’s head tilted in Louis’ direction, his eyes darting from the road for a split second. His fingers flew from steering wheel to indicator with practiced ease.

“I can’t believe you’re speeding,” Louis murmured, curled sideways and hugging his belly. “You never speed--Ah!” His eyes slammed shut and his hand shot out. “Fucking hell.” He squeezed Harry’s thigh hard. “This fucking appendix fucking s-sucks.”

Harry spread his leg closer to Louis.

“What’s your favourite font?”

Louis squinted at him, his damp hair falling over his eyes.

“What?” 

“What’s your favourite font?” Harry asked, his lilting voice melodic and low. He smiled at Louis before looking back to the road. “Or one of your favourites, if it’s too hard to pick. I know there are a lot.”

“Yeah, that’s hard to say, because there are so many font families,” Louis said, pained and speaking quickly. “Uh, I like, uh,” he breathed for a moment, staring up at the ceiling, “well, there’s a guy named Adrian Frutiger. He made a font called Frutiger, but also one called [Avenir](https://www.myfonts.com/fonts/linotype/avenir/). I think I like Avenir better. That’s sort of his masterpiece.”

Harry signalled and turned, the car speeding up.

“Why do you like it better?”

“I dunno, I just--I guess I just like the spacing of the letters a bit more.”

“What does it look like? What font, I mean.”

“Um, like--Sort of like the Weezer font. Do you know that one?”

Harry nodded and stepped on the gas, his eyes calm on the road.

“What’s that one called?”

“It resembles Century Gothic, but there are minor changes.”

“Do you like Century Gothic?”

“I do. It’s classic.”

“What about Gill Sans?”

Louis smiled despite the pain, his hand rubbing up the top of Harry’s thigh.

“How do you know the name Gill Sans?”

“I looked up fonts to figure out which one you picked for my business cards. That wasn’t it, but,” he gave Louis a crinkly-eyed smile, “I thought it was nice.” 

“I love you so much I want to create a font called Harry Styles Sans,” Louis said, his voice wobbling, Harry squeezing the top of his hand. “That’s how much I love you.”

“Can the punctuation be shaped like cookies?”

“Cookies?”

“Like how some people dot their lowercase i’s with a heart, can Harry Styles Sans have a chocolate chip cookie as the dot?”

Louis whimpered as he chuckled, the sound coming out in bumps of pained grunts. He shut his eyes and leaned his forehead against Harry’s shoulder, his hand squeezing Harry’s leg every few seconds. 

The car veered to the side and slowed. Harry’s arm flew over the clutch before the engine quieted. Harry thumbed Louis’ cheekbone and pecked his lips.

“We’re here, love. Time to get better and forget this ever happened.”

Louis blearily stared out the window.

“We’re here? Already?”

Harry’s door slammed shut. Louis watched him run around the front of the car and flag down two passing nurses in matching navy blue scrubs. He could see Harry’s lips moving as he gestured towards his car. One of the nurses went inside while another followed Harry. Harry opened Louis’ door.

“Alright, love,” Harry slid one arm under Louis’ arse, “they’ll take you right in.”

“I thought I’d have to wait? Isn’t it crowded?”

Harry held him around his upper back and pulled him out of his seat.

“I told them your appendix is possibly rupturing and they said it could be a matter of minutes, so they’ll take you in right away.”

A nurse appeared at the car. Louis’ eyes bulged, fixated on the wheelchair she was pushing.

“Oh no, no, no,” Louis shook his head, his legs swaying in the air, “I can walk.”

“What? Why?” Harry laughed, easing him into the wheelchair. “Oh,” he glanced at the discarded Toms in the front seat, “you need your shoes.”

“We--We--” Louis panted for a moment, his face glowing with sweat. He gripped the centre of Harry’s shirt and squinted up at him. “We have sex with each other,” he hissed through his teeth. “Really, really hot sex. You’re supposed to find me arousing, not think of me like this. Oh God,” he practically sobbed, clutching his wrinkled forehead and dropping his head, “this is a disaster.”

“How do you know this isn’t arousing to me?”

Louis held him with a furious, red-faced stare, Harry smiling crookedly. The nurses came up behind Louis and started to wheel him through the automatic doors. 

It was packed inside, patients crowding the waiting area and reception desk, but the hospital itself was clean and modern. The nurse guided Louis through a wall of people. Harry swung his rucksack around to his front and unzipped it.

“Do you need his ID? Do we need paperwork?”

The nurse glanced at Harry.

“You can give his information to the people at the desk. I’d suggest leaving--”

“Oh God,” Louis gasped under his breath, taking tiny, frantic breaths and holding his side. The nurses and Harry stared at him as they walked, the nurses calm while Harry’s eyes were bulging out of his head. “Sorry, I’m fine. Continue, please, oh!” He bit his fist, rocking forward and back in the chair while whispering, “Fucking hell.”

“He should leave his wallet with you,” the wheeling nurse continued, giving Harry a harried, but kind, smile. “Phone, as well.”

Harry patted his rucksack.

“I have his phone with me.”

“I forgot my phone. You--You remembered my phone?” Louis asked, enchanted amidst the severe pain throbbing in his side. “Harry, you--” His face snapped forward towards the other nurse. “Oh, ow!” She studied his front and pressed her hands to his lower belly, Louis crying out, “Fucking shit! Why are you doing that!?”

The nurse stuck a thermometer in Louis’ mouth and felt his forehead.

“It’s likely appendicitis, but we’ll do a quick ultrasound, just incase.”

Harry said, “Oh, he had an ultrasound at his GP a couple of weeks ago and they said his stomach issues were probably stress related and he should cut back on spicy, acidic foods. We’ve been avoiding tomatoes.”

“Sometimes appendicitis sneaks up on you,” the nurse said. “Sometimes with no prior symptoms. His original stomach issues could be unrelated to this.”

“I have to call my mum,” Louis said, his words muffled by the thermometer. “Fuck,” he sputtered, “I have to call her.”

“I called her when you were in the toilet,” Harry said. Louis stared at him with the thermometer barely hanging on to his slackened bottom lip. Harry slipped Louis’ right shoe onto his foot. “She’s on her way. I’ll take care of her.” Harry squeezed his ankle and smiled. “Don’t even worry about it.”

The thermometer beeped. The nurse took it out and checked the reading.

“We’ve got to go,” she said, jutting her chin forward. “If his appendix ruptures, it makes things a whole lot more complicated.”

Harry’s elbows clutched the open rucksack to his front, his long legs striding to keep up with the wheelchair.

“His name is Louis Tomlinson and he’s twenty-five,” he blurted out, his hands shaking around Louis’ wallet. “His birthday is the twenty-fourth of December. His blood type is O, the Universal Donor. He doesn’t have any allergies besides occasionally pollen, but he doesn’t take anything for that. He takes B-12 vitamins every morning, but he’s not on any other medication and he’s very healthy and he runs and does Bikram yoga and doesn’t eat a lot of sweets unless I ask him to.”

Louis gave Harry a soft smile. His appendix might have been bursting, but his eyes had somehow morphed into two shimmery, pounding hearts. The wheelchair nurse smiled amusedly at the temperature taking nurse, who stifled a smile and wrote something on her clipboard. She clicked her pen and patted Harry’s back.

“That’s all lovely to hear, Mr. Tomlinson, but I’m sure it’s going to be a routine appendectomy. Your husband will be just fine.”

Louis cried out and fell forward, Harry squeezing his shoulder. They reached a set of doors, a sign proclaiming that no visitors were allowed past that point. Harry’s heart rate spiked but his voice remained calm.

“Should I tell Li and the guys?”

“No,” Louis grit out with his eyes shut, “don’t want to ruin their holiday weekend.”

“Niall?”

“You can tell him.”

“Niall will tell Liam and Zayn immediately.”

Louis sighed and scrubbed his hand over his shiny face.

“Fine, but only when they text him or call him. I don’t want to interrupt Fuckfest Ninety-Seven.”

A new nurse appeared in front of them and asked, “What were you two doing when you started experiencing pains, Mr. Tomlinson?”

Harry and Louis’ eyes darted to each other. Harry’s mouth opened as if to answer, but Louis gave him a tiny headshake, Harry closing his mouth. 

“Exercising,” Louis answered, his voice breaking to gasp, “oh, fuck.” The nurses exchanged another amused look. “Oh, baby,” he winced, “if Simon calls my phone, can you please answer it? I don’t want him to think I’m ignoring him after the meeting today. He usually calls or emails after he drops a bomb like that.”

“Of course. Whatever you want.”

“You can tell him what’s going on and that I’ll have to let him know when I’ll next be in. You’ll know the password for my phone.”

“The pass--”

Louis whimpered and curled in on himself. One of the nurses scanned her ID at the door.

“Time to go,” she said. 

The doors swung open and Harry ran his fingers through Louis’ sweaty hair.

“I’ll be fine, love,” Louis rasped, leaning into his touch. Harry dropped to his knees beside the wheelchair and firmly pressed his lips to Louis’ cheek. “I’ll see you soon and we can cook the lamb.”

Harry whispered, “I’m so sorry I forgot the ice cream.” His nose crunched against Louis’ neck. “I’ll never forget it again.”

“Harry,” Louis laughed, immediately groaning and holding his side. “It’s fine.”

Another group of nurses came their way and surrounded Louis’ wheelchair.

“I love you,” Harry said, Louis’s lips colliding with his own. He tasted of salt and sweat, but Harry only cradled his cheek tighter and kissed him again. Their foreheads nudged together. “I’ll see you very soon, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis shuddered, the nurse pushing his wheelchair away. “I’ll be totally fine.” His voice started to shake, his smile pained. Louis looked over his shoulder and shivered, “I love you so much, Harry. Thank you.” 

He saw Harry standing with the rucksack clutched in his left hand. Harry lifted his right hand in a motionless wave, a bright smile on his face and a black TOMLINSON football jersey clinging to his torso. 

The doors swooshed closed. 

Nurses and patients rushed around him, the wheels of a stretcher squeaking closer and phones ringing in the distance. Harry swallowed and lowered his waving hand, blinking his eyes extra wide. He glanced at his watch and blew a breath through his lips. Four minutes had passed since they arrived at A&E.

His mobile buzzed in his back pocket and he pulled it out, turning from the big doors.

“Hey, mum, can I call you back?” he said, keeping his voice low. “I need to give Louis’ stuff to the hospital people.” He got to the desk and took out Louis’ wallet, fingers fumbling inside the leather pockets. “Can I call you back? Yeah, she’s on the way.” His feet went pigeon-toed, his fingers brushing a strip of red ribbon flattened in Louis’ wallet. “Yeah,” he said, swallowing and willing the butterflies in his stomach to calm. He could only handle so much A&E in one day. “I’m going to, yeah.”

The desk nurse looked up at him with raised brows. He mouthed, “I’m sorry,” and handed over Louis’ identification. The nurse nodded and took it from him, smirking as she typed. 

“Yeah,” Harry said to Anne, balancing the phone on his shoulder. “I’ll talk to you in a bit. Love you, too, bye.” He put his phone in Louis’ rucksack. He flattened his palms on the desk. “I’m so sorry to have been on the phone. Do you need anything from me?”

“No worries, sir.” She handed him a short form. Harry grabbed a pen and bent at the waist, his arm tight to his side as the pen darted from space to space. She smiled kindly. “First emergency?”

“Yeah, sort of.” He wiped the back of his hand over his damp forehead. “I’ve never been the adult in an emergency before.”

She chuckled and pushed her wire-rimmed glasses higher on her nose. She resumed typing with both hands.

“Well, you’re doing a great job. Some people forget to bring identification, or they come alone and we can’t get any information from them until after surgery. Have you called your husband’s GP?”

“Not yet, but I will,” Harry answered as he wrote his cell number on the form.

“Do you know his name?”

“Erm...Doctor…Umm...” Harry hummed, neatly printing their new address. His brows furrowed, Louis’ voice echoing in his head. He whispered under his breath, “[Doctor, doctor, give me the news, I’ve got a bad case of](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jQdaSpEeBvQ)...” His face snapped up with a bright smile. “News! Hughes! His name is Dr. Hughes.”

“Ah ha.” The nurse stifled her laughter and nodded with a close-lipped smile. “Do you have Dr. Hughes’ contact information?”

Harry shook his head and took Louis’ phone out. 

“I’m sure he’s got it in here. Probably with a hospital Emoji in his contact.” He hit the Home button and nibbled his bottom lip. The password screen popped up with the usual blue, starry sky iPhone background. “Um…”

Machines beeped and phones rang in the background, Harry’s scrunched lips swaying side to side. The corners of his lips started to curl upwards, the insides of his nostrils suddenly stinging. He typed using both thumbs.

**H-a-r-r-y-1-2-3-4**

The screen unlocked and revealed a black and white photo. Harry laughed breathily and clenched his eyes shut for a beat. 

The phone’s background was a black and white selfie they had snapped of them laying face-to-face in bed. Their hair was messy and glowing at the edges, their shoulders bare. They had been laughing about something, Louis’ eyes crinkled shut with Harry’s extra pursed lips smushed beside his eye. He remembered that he was making fishy, slurping noises as he kissed Louis’ cheeks, which only made him laugh harder.

Harry took a shaky breath in and leaned closer to the desk nurse.

“People with appendicitis make a full recovery, right?” he asked, his hand gripping the pen so tightly it vibrated between his fingers. “Right?”

The nurse eased the pen from his hand and squeezed his fist.

“I’m sure he’s going to be just fine.” She tapped the top of Louis’ iPhone. “Do you have that number for Dr. Hughes? I can take care of the rest of the paperwork for you.”

Harry finished up at the desk and joined the ranks waiting in the crowded seating area. He had no idea how long he would be waiting and no idea who to even speak to about Louis’ condition. Hopefully, a doctor or nurse would come find him when the time came. 

He rested the back of his head on his seat and pulled the bottom of his shirt away from his sweating stomach. He peered down at the shiny black shirt material. His fluffs of the shirt slowed.

He looked over his shoulder and smiled, laughing softly to himself. He had worn a black v-neck that day and must have accidentally picked up Louis’ black v-neck jersey amidst all the chaos. 

“Now it makes sense.” He faced forward against and rested his right ankle on his left knee, his foot jiggling. “Husband,” he chuckled, his ankle slowing. He pushed his thumbs into his outer thighs, his eyes watching fluorescent light dance over the tile floor. His voice was softer to laugh, “Husband,” a second time.

A phone vibrated in his rucksack. Harry jumped and searched through the bag. Simon’ name flashed on the screen of Louis’ phone.

“Shit,” he said, his index finger lingering above the Accept button. He cleared his throat and tapped the screen, lifting the phone to his ear. “Hi, Simon, this is Harry.” He deepened his voice. “Harry Styles.”

“Chef Harry Styles,” Simon’s drawled voice smiled through the phone. Harry exhaled shakily, smiling and pulling at the knee of his skinnies. “What are you doing with Tomlinson’s phone?”

“Uh, well, Louis had to be taken to A&E.”

Harry could practically see the smile fall from Simon’s face.

“A&E? Why? What’s wrong?”

“We think it’s probably appendicitis. They just took him in.”

“I hope you didn’t have to wait long. Poor fellow.”

“No, we didn’t wait. I drove and…” His head craned over his shoulder and he whispered, “Oh, shit,” before he realized he was on the phone with Simon Cowell. His face snapped forward. “Shit, sorry, I--Sorry, I mean, uh--”

Simon’s laughter buzzed in his ear.

“Go move your car, Chef Styles. Can you message me his hospital info? I’d love to send my regards.”

“Sure. Can I text you on this number?”

“Absolutely.”

“Great.”

“How are you doing?”

“Oh, uh...” Harry shouldered his bag and stood up. “I’m fine, thank you. Thanks for asking.”

“Scary, isn’t it?”

Harry swallowed and moved towards the automatic doors. 

“Yeah, a bit. I feel silly, though, because it’s just appendicitis.”

“Still scary. Take care of yourself, Styles. Get some magazines to read while you wait, then give them to Lou. People in hospitals love magazines. He’ll be charmed.”

Harry stuttered out a laugh and went through the doors, where his car miraculously had not been towed. He fished his keys out of pocket.

“Sounds good, thanks. Thanks for the tip.”

Their conversation ended and Harry moved his car to the hospital’s multi-storey car park. A call came through his Bluetooth and he exhaled through his rounded lips. He pushed a button on his steering wheel with his thumb.

“Hey, mate, alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good! Am I on speaker?”

“Bluetooth.”

“Okay,” Niall said even louder. He had never really grasped the concept of Bluetooth in Harry’s car. “Mini has to work late. Wanna do Chinese tonight? Or are you and Lou still fucking? If so--Hi, Lou! Hope you’re having fun!”

Harry smiled and scratched the back of his neck.

“Lou’s not here. We’re at the hospital.”

“What!? Why!? What!?”

“He had stomach pains and--”

“I knew it was his appendix! I knew it! I told him weeks ago to go see--” Niall cleared his throat to sing, “Doctor, doctor, give me the news, I got a--”

Harry joined in singing, “Bad case, for Dr. Hughes.”

Niall cackled then quieted immediately. 

“Okay, enough songs. Where are you? I’m coming over.”

“You’re coming over,” Harry repeated, amused. 

“And I’m bringing Chinese. A shitload of it. Can I bring beer or is that against hospital rules? Discreet wine in a can, maybe?”

. . .

The first feelings Louis registered were warmth and weight over his entire front. His body was tucked so tightly into a stiff bed from shoulders to feet that he felt like a swaddled infant. He swallowed and felt pain, his throat aching and sore. The rest of him felt like fuzzy heat; like he was aware he had limbs but couldn’t bring himself to care about much else. He licked his lips, his eyelids releasing to allow him to open his eyes.

The first thing he saw was Harry’s face. Harry had on a thin black elastic headband, his hair puffing up higher on the crown of his head. He was sitting in a hospital chair that was pulled close to Louis’ bedside, his cheek pressed on the armrest of Louis’ bed as he leafed through a magazine that rested on the side of the hospital bed. Louis registered food on the magazine pages and his stomach rumbled.

Harry’s eyes floated up from the glossy page.

“Hey there,” he said softly, warmth radiating from his relieved face. He smiled and cradled Louis’ cheek, thumbing his cheekbone. His deep voice spread over Louis’ entire body, numb limbs and all. “Welcome back. How do you feel?”

Louis’ eyes lulled. A beat passed, Harry’s touch sending fuzzy jolts of warmth through his body.

“Hi,” Louis rasped.

Harry’s dimples deepened. 

“Hi.”

Louis stared at him for a moment. Harry’s green eyes joined in the middle of his face like two cells combining, the light behind his wavy hair becoming blinding. Louis’ eyes scrunched shut and then opened. He thought he felt his mouth moving, but no sound registered in his ears.

“You’re real?”

“Me?” Harry arched his eyebrows, his dimple deepening. He sounded fuzzy to Louis, as if he was speaking underwater with cotton in his mouth. “Yes, I’m real.”

Louis’ voice was barely a whisper to say, “You’re so...so beautiful.”

Harry’s body shook as if to laugh, but he kept his noises to himself, his lips pressed together in a shivering line. 

“Thank you.” He leaned forward and kissed Louis’ cheek. He flattened his palm on the side of his neck. “Right back at you. How do you feel?”

“Tired.”

Harry nodded.

“That’s normal. You’re on some heavy drugs right now, plus you still have a fever. But that’s all totally normal. Your surgeon said you did great. It was laproscopic, so you should have a quick recovery.”

“Harry.”

“Yeah?”

Louis’ heavy eyes swayed closed and open, closed and open, his vision becoming narrower with each blink.

“Harry,” he whispered softer.

“Yes, love?”

Louis murmured, “They shaved my belly,” just before his eyes closed and he tipped asleep. Harry’s laughter emerged in a burst of quiet, puffed breaths. He thumbed Louis’ cheekbone, kissing his nose and smoothing back his sweaty hair.

. . .

When Louis next awoke, it was to the sound of snoring. For a moment, he wondered if he had started to snore due to the loss of his appendix. Then the snores became clearer, as did the visual of Harry slouched sideways in his chair and snoring with his mouth agape.

Louis wiggled his fingers and toes. The blankets were warm around him, but not as tight as the first time he woke up. There was a shuffled sound next to his bed, followed by a soft snort.

“Oh, good, you’re up.”

Louis looked towards where Harry was sitting, Harry smiling wider and standing from his seat. He stretched his arms over his head, his black jersey riding up on his flat stomach.

Two nurses came into the room and flitted around Louis’ bed. Their words were calm and efficient while they checked his vitals and changed a bag of clear fluid. He heard snippets of their conversation about his successful surgery, antibiotic schedule, and anticipated recovery as he came to. A thermometer was placed under his tongue and taken away before he could ask their names.

The nurses left and Harry walked up to the bed. His hands gripped the armrest and he bent over to kiss Louis’ forehead, his lips pressing to both cheeks. 

“Y’alright?” Harry asked.

Louis’ eyes swam around the ceiling before looking to Harry.

“Yeah,” he rasped.

“I, uh, took those off of you,” Harry said, Louis blinked confusedly at him. “I know you don’t like sleeping with socks. And I loosened your blankets a little because I know you don’t like them too tight, but I think that’s just how the nurses tuck patients in. They said it was okay for me to, um, adjust them. So...”

Louis felt Harry’s hand rubbing the top of his foot through the thick layers of blankets. He glanced at a pair of folded yellow hospital booties placed on the other chair in the room. His toes wiggled, his hands lifting up against the blanket barrier. Harry folded the sheets down enough for Louis to slip his arms out.

“Your mum is on the way,” Harry said quietly, wrapping his hands on top of Louis’ right hand. Louis looked from the hospital booties to Harry’s face. “She decided to take the train so she could leave the car for the girls. She spilled the beans to Liam’s mum, who notified Liam and Zayn. They’ve been blowing my phone up nonstop and managed to send me an accidental sex picture, which,” his words slowed, his eyes rolling up towards the ceiling, “doesn’t really make sense. They’re together in their hotel room and have no reason to send a photo to each other. But,” he shrugged, “mistakes happen.”

Harry thumbed over Louis’ knuckles. 

“Niall is here and he brought Chinese, enough for us and most of the staff. He was distracted by the sight of a ukelele and is now serenading kids in the cancer wing, but he said to text him when you’re up and he’ll be here. He’ll probably even bring the ukulele.”

Louis tried to lift his hand, but the heavy drugs kept his motions slow. His fingers nudged Harry’s neck and fell back to the mattress. Harry chuckled and smoothed his thumbs over the center of Louis’ palm. Louis slapped his lips together for a few seconds, his heavy eyes glued to Harry’s smile. Their eyes locked, Harry continuing to draw small circles on Louis’ palm. 

“This alright?” Harry asked.

Louis made a tiny nodding motion. Harry smiled and lifted their joined hands, pressing his lips to Louis’ middle knuckle. They stared at each other amidst the dull sounds of hospital machines and conversations taking place in the hallway.

Then Louis’ eyes started to sag, moisture weighing down his bottom eyelids and his lips becoming a small, trembling frown. Harry’s face fell.

“Lou, hey, Louis,” he whispered, squeezing his hand. His free hand smoothed around Louis’ cheekbone. “Hey, what’s wrong? You’re fine.” Plush lips pressed against Louis’ cheek, Louis blubbering a watery sound and squeezing his eyes shut. “You’re absolutely fine.” 

Harry hugged him as best he could with his upper body stretched over the hospital bed. Weak, breathy sounds were hiccuped against his neck, his lips pressing over and over to Louis’ cheeks. His face was smushed between Louis’ skin and his pillows, resulting in a round of soft, smacked sounds each time he repeatedly kissed one spot. 

“I’m s-sorry,” Louis whispered. He hid his face in his hands as he sniffled, his chest popping up with each sniffle. “I’m so sorry.”

Harry’s nose nudged its way between Louis’ hands to press their cheeks together, his lips sneaking in to kiss his trembling mouth.

“Oh, babe, no. No apologizing necessary.” 

Harry kissed his temple and wrapped him tighter in his arms, Louis’ face sliding over Harry’s upper shoulder as he whimpered and nuzzled his neck. Louis tugged the back of Harry’s shirt and Harry leaned his arse on the mattress, his boots brushing the floor. Harry smoothed his hand over the back of Louis’ head, Louis’ quick breaths puffing out of his wet nostrils. 

“Aw, love, you’re fine,” Harry murmured gently, kissing his cheeks. He kissed beside his nose, salty tears tingling on his lips. “Is it the anesthesia? Your doctor said it might make you feel loopy for a few days, but that’s okay. That’s totally normal.”

Louis quieted with his face pressed to Harry’s collarbone.

“I’m just sorry.”

“What for?”

“I ruined your weekend,” Louis hiccupped. “And the lamb, oh God, the lamb. And the sex.” Louis’ voice broke on a weak sob. “We were having such amazing sex and I ruined it. I ruined it!” His voice cracked high and loud, tears gushing from his eyes. “I’ll eat an avocado every day from now on. Eh-Eh-Every day, I p-promise.”

Harry sat back on the bad and smiled at Louis, cupping his cheek.

“You didn’t ruin my weekend or lamb or sex,” he said, amusement shaking his voice.

“I di-ih-ih--” Louis sniffled rapidly and nodded. “Did.”

“You didn’t.”

“Are you still--still h-horny?” His words tumbled out in bursts of half-sobs, his teary eyes wide. He lifted his hand in a fist. “I c-can hold my hand out or--or keep my mouth open.”

“Louis, I’m fine,” Harry laughed wide-eyed in shock. “Don’t waste your energy worrying about that. I’m just glad you’re alright. I don’t care about sex right now; I care about you.”

“But the weekend. I ruined it. All that expensive lamb.”

“You had an organ that needed some attention, so we gave it some attention.”

Louis looked down at his stomach and sighed. His tiny pout returned.

“Bloody appendix,” he grumbled. The sound of low, soft laughter brought his eyes to Harry. Louis’ face, already damp with sweat, pinked. He smiled sadly and whispered, “I guess your premonition came true, too.”

Harry squinted at him.

“What?”

“About needing some sickies and seeing the ugly bits of each other, though I much prefer your original reason for why I’d need a sickie.”

Harry’s head shook slowly, his thumb soothing Louis’ cheek.

“Not ugly.” He leaned down and brushed their lips together. He smiled with his lips closed and pushed Louis’ hair back. “Not at all. Never ugly.”

“I’m--I’m just,” Louis’ face crumpled, “so sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. Besides,” he thumbed tears from beneath Louis’ eyelid, “we don’t have hazelnut ice cream, so there aren’t any good snacks at your place anyway. Where else would I rather be?”

His joke only made Louis sob and crunch his nose into the crook of Harry’s neck, spit and snot smearing on Harry’s cheek.

“Aww, it’s alright,” he soothed, Louis shaking against him. He rubbed his palm between his shoulder blades, slipping his fingers between the cloth ties holding his hospital gown together. “It’s alright, love. Shhh.” He kissed Louis’ ear. “It’s all alright.”

“I’m--I’m snotting all over you,” Louis said, his breath hitching between words. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m crying.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about. The doctor said anesthesia can make people emotional.” Just mentioning the word emotional made Louis whimper a high pitched sound of embarrassment. Harry smirked with the left side of his mouth. “I kind of like you all mushy.” 

“Mu-u-ushy!?” Louis said as he cried.

Harry’s whispered laughter brushed over Louis’ ear. 

“It’s alright, love.” He kissed his jawline and rubbed his bare back. “Shhh, you’re alright.” Louis’ frantic breaths calmed, his body slowing in its shivers. “You did so well. Your appendix never stood a chance.”

“I--I--” Louis’ voice softened. His eyes peeked over the back of Harry’s head. “Is that…” He caught his breath for a moment. His throat clicked to swallow. “Is that an entire computer built out of flowers?”

Harry smiled and nodded.

“Mmhmm.” He sat back in his chair with his hand still warm on Louis’ neck. “One guess as to who that’s from.”

Louis squinted at the arrangement.

“Uh...Simon?” 

“Bingo. He, and everyone from the Simone family, sends their best wishes for you to get well soon. They also sent a lovely card and a catered French dinner for the staff. Now I know where you learned to move fast.”

“That’s nice. And very Simon. But very nice.” Louis smiled with pinched brows. “Why so many sunflowers?”

“Well,” Harry drawled bashfully, “he might have asked what flowers you prefer. And I might have neglected to tell him white peonies because I already bought some for your room.” Louis’ eyes landed on the large, fluffy white bouquet beside his window. “So, I said you’d be cool with sunflowers or whatever. You, um,” Harry sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, “sort of remind me of sunflowers, I guess. I didn’t know he’d become the Bill Gates of floral arrangements.”

Louis chuckled ever so softly and shifted his gaze to Harry. Harry’s bottom lip popped out of his mouth in a shy smile, his eyes dropping to Louis’ fingers as they stroked over his knuckles. Harry turned his hand over and linked their fingers. 

“Thank you for being so calm with all this. For being you,” Louis said quietly, his voice higher and raspier than usual. His eyes started to water, Harry sucking his own trembling bottom lip between his teeth. “And for thinking of...Of everything. My phone and my mum and...” A tear trickled out of the corner of his left eyelid, Harry shooting up out of his chair to smooth his hand over the track of shimmering skin. “You’re good. You’re a good person and I appreciate you being you.”

Harry leaned over and kissed Louis’ cheek.

“You don’t have to thank me. I did it because I love you; because I care about you. I’d do it every day, my love.” He pressed his lips firmer to Louis’ jawline. “Happily.”

Watery eyes darted over Harry’s face.

“I kicked you when you picked me up. I’m sorry,” Louis said, air rushing through his tone. “I’m so sorry. I was f-flailing.”

Harry smiled crookedly.

“It’s alright. I’ll survive.”

“I was such a pain.”

“You were fine.”

“I’m sorry I never told you I’m a terrible patient.” Louis tried to smile, but his lips wobbled to say, “I should have told you.”

Harry shook his head.

“You’re not a terrible patient.”

“I am.”

“You weren’t being fussy with a cold; you had an organ exploding inside of you. You’re allowed to be a terrible patient when you’re in pain and scared.”

“A small part of me was scared, but the biggest part of me wasn’t because I was with you and I--” Louis’ voice choked off, more tears dribbling down his cheekbones. “I’m so used to being in control and thinking of everything for everyone, but then I didn’t think of everything. I didn’t think of anything. I couldn’t. But you were there and I wasn’t scared.”

Harry’s eyes started to sting.

“That’s good,” he said, thickness deepening his voice. He smiled and squeezed Louis’ hand. “That’s good that you weren’t scared.”

“I wasn’t scared because I was with you.”

The corners of Harry’s lips twitched, his eyelashes blinking faster.

“I’m,” he swallowed and cleared his throat, “very happy to hear that.”

A flicker of boyishness washed over Louis’ face. He curled his fingers in Harry’s shirt and pulled him closer. Harry smiled slowly as he leaned over the bed, their lips nudging together. Louis cradled Harry’s face with one hand and tilted his head, both smiling into a longer, chaste kiss.

“You newlyweds! Insatiable.”

They chuckled and turned their faces away. Harry licked his lips and sat back, Louis’ hand still loosely holding his shirt. A nurse zipped around Louis’ bed and checked a reading on a machine. Harry shifted in his seat, he and Louis glancing at each other with matching pink cheeks.

“How are you feeling, Louis?” the nurse asked.

“Fine, thanks,” Louis answered, offering her a small smile.

She flicked her fingers at a tube connected to his IV.

“Excellent. You’re going to have to take it easy for a while. Dr. Hughes will explain details to you when he visits tomorrow. We’ll be right down the hall if you need anything,” she patted Harry’s shoulder, “though I’m guessing Nurse Tomlinson will continue to keep watch.”

Sheepish, shy laughter bubbled from Harry’s smiling lips, Louis grinning and tugging the hem of his shirt. The nurse left; the sounds of the hospital filtered into the small room. 

“So,” Louis whispered. He fingered a pinch of Harry’s shirt, his eyes shimmering. “Did we get married while I was unconscious?”

Harry smiled and leaned closer, his pressing his lips to the corner of Louis’ mouth. 

“No, not to my knowledge,” Harry murmured, cupping Louis’ face with both hands. He gently kissed him again, Louis snuffling into their kiss. “I think my shirt gave them the wrong idea. I didn’t even realize they kept calling me that until I was here for a while. I was going to tell them, but then I was paranoid that, if I told them we weren’t married, they wouldn’t let me back to see you.”

Louis’ eyelashes swept slowly. His eyes remained closed for a beat before he opened them and blinked at Harry.

“That makes sense.”

“You look sleepy, love,” Harry said in a low, gentle tone, the heel of his hand cradling Louis’ jawline. “You should rest.”

Louis smiled, his eyes soft and dopey.

“Yeah,” he sighed.

“Sleep. I’ll see you when you wake up. Your mum will probably be here by then. My mum might even show up. She sends her love, by the way.” Harry stopped rambling and stared at Louis’ drowsy face. His fingers carded through the side of Louis’ hair. “You ready for sleep?” 

Louis’ throat bobbed as he stared at Harry. A small smile lit his face, even as his long eyelashes swayed slower and slower.

“Harry?”

Harry leaned closer to hear his whispers.

“Yeah?”

“When we get married, let’s do it small.”

Harry’s open mouth rounded to a perfect circle, his brows arched. He glanced up at the hanging bag of medication being pumped into Louis’ veins.

“Alright,” Harry exhaled, laughing softly and looking back to Louis. He rubbed Louis’ forearm, nodding with his lips pursed forward. “I’d be fine with doing it with just us, to be honest, but I’m fine with whatever you want to do.”

Louis inhaled audibly, his chest swelling beneath the thin white blankets, his smile growing more sleepy.

“Just us?”

“Mmhmm.”

Louis smiled, slow and close-lipped, the skin beside his eyes crinkling.

“Sounds good.” 

“Yeah? Even if our families aren’t there?” Harry thumbed soft circles around the sharp bone of Louis’ wrist. “Our mums might murder us.”

Sleep weighed Louis’ eyelids, his head lolling on his pillow. He opened his eyes to slits.

“I’m sure we can…” He took a deep breath and yawned it out, his eyes falling shut. “Can figure out a way to…” He licked his dry lips, murmuring, “Include people.”

Harry smiled and eased his hand out from under Louis’ cheek. Louis’ hair had tumbled over his eyebrows, sweat and stress causing the longish strands to curl and frizz at the ends. Harry smoothed his hair back with rhythmic, gentle strokes. The crisp hospitals linens seemed to meld to Louis’ body, heat radiating off of him in waves. 

A ringing iPhone broke through the calm. Harry jumped up and tiptoed to his rucksack. He didn’t want to disturb Louis, nor the other people on Louis’ floor. When he grabbed his phone, an unknown number was already listed as a missed call.

 

He stared at the green Phone icon in the upper left corner of his phone. Normally, he had to clear the round red alert bubble to avoid being annoyed all day, but he had been too busy to stress about that once they reached the hospital. 

His email pinged at the same time as the voicemail alert popped up, changing the total number of voicemails from seven to eight. He tapped on his mailbox and sat back in his seat. His thumb lifted as if to scroll but froze in the air. 

Harry blinked and squinted, bringing the phone up to his face. His gaze flitted side to side.

“Oh.”

Sweat sprung up through his pores, his heart rate accelerating until it was double the beeping sound coming from one of Louis’ machines. He tapped the screen and opened his newest email.

His rapid heartbeat paused for a split-second. Blood pounded in his ears, his head swaying side to side without his control. He shuddered out a laugh and quickly muffled his mouth with his hands and phone, his big eyes looking around the silent hospital room.

He went to his voicemails and clicked on the newest one.

“Hi, Harry, this is Angela from Bravo. I hope you’re well! We’re very happy to inform you that you’ve been selected…”

Harry’s eyes went even wider and he laughed again, Louis shifting in bed.

“Louis,” he said, gently shaking Louis’ shoulder. Harry kissed his forehead and shook both shoulders. “Lou, are you up? I’m sorry to disturb your rest, but are you up? Lou? Sweet peach?” A grumpy pout scrunched Louis’ face, his hand fumbling for his pain medication button. Harry brought his lips to Louis’ ear and whispered, “I got picked for Top Chef.”

Louis’ eyes popped open.

“What!?” he rasped, his smile so sudden it caused his eyes to close completely. His feet kicked under the blankets. “You did!?”

“I did!” Harry said on a whispered squeal. “I’m a contestant. They picked me! Oh my God,” he gasped, his eyes rounding, “they picked me. I have to practice how to break down an entire cow. And sous vide. And peel a hundred hard boiled eggs. And manage the front of the house for Restaurant Wars.”

Louis spread his arms and murmured, “C’mere. Hug me.” 

Harry fell forward and snaked his arms around Louis’ upper body, his face pushed to the thin hospital pillows. Louis inhaled deeply, sucking in breaths of Harry’s sweet, slightly sweaty hair. He smoothed his hand over Harry’s upper back.

“Oh, love,” Louis kissed his temple, “you’re gonna be so amazing. I’m so,” Louis kissed his cheek, “so proud of you. This is the best day ever!”

Harry guffawed and lifted his face.

“Best day ever? You had your appendix removed.”

“So? We found out I get to stay living in London and you were picked to be a television star!” Louis’ eyes crinkled, tired giggles bubbling in his voice to say, “I’d say that’s a pretty good day.”

Harry laughed properly and fell onto Louis, Louis quietly chanting, “Ow, ow, ow.” 

“Oh, no, I’m sorry!” Harry fell off the edge of the bed, long limbs clattering to the floor. “I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

“It’s okay,” Louis laughed, gingerly cradling his middle. He watched Harry’s boots sway in the air. “I’m fine. The IV-thingie was just pulling my arm.”

Harry’s eyes peeked over the edge of the bed, his hair wild.

“Are you sure?”

Louis nodded and patted the mattress.

“C’mere. Lie down with me.”

Harry got one arse cheek on the bed before his phone rang again. Louis kissed his elbow, his nearest body part, and Harry laughed, half on the bed with one foot on the floor. He pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Ah ha.” He flipped the screen to Louis. “It’s your lovely mum. I should message Niall, as well. He wants to see you.”

Louis chuckled and looped an arm around Harry’s middle. He tried to listen to Harry speaking to his mother about her estimated time of arrival, but his eyes felt too heavy to keep open. Then the bed seemed to get warmer and cushier and soft fingers started to card through his hair, Harry’s low voice buzzing in his ears as he fell fast asleep.

. . .

Jay gripped her overnight bag and walked with quick strides through the station. Her phone was clutched in her hand as her blue eyes darted around the crowd. Without looking down, she dodged two young boys battling over a rolling suitcase and sidestepped a trio of prams coming her way.

She had been in such a hurry to leave home, she wore a pair of old pink flip flops not meant for public viewing. She had packed a pair of brown ankle boots, but her black travel flats were nowhere to be found thanks to the twins deciding to clean the house before she got home from work. 

It was a lovely, and most welcome, gesture, but when she received a hurried call from Harry saying that her son had to go to the hospital for mysterious stomach pains, she didn’t have the time or the brain power to search through her closet for flats. She barely remembered to pack underwear and grab her purse on the way out the door.

“Jay!”

Her face snapped left, her feet already power walking to the line of cars.

“Harry,” she sighed. Harry rushed towards her and took her bag off her shoulder, his long arms hugging her tightly. Jay laughed, “Hello, love,” and rubbed his upper back. She squeezed him. “Oof,” she squeezed him again, “you give good hugs.”

Harry laughed and took a step back.

“I’m sorry we are officially meeting this way, but I’m so happy to meet you.”

Jay cradled his cheek and smiled, her blue eyes crinkling.

“I know exactly what you mean. Thank you for taking care of everything today. I...” She paused for a split second, her voice wavering despite her bright smile. “I can’t tell you how much of a relief it was to know you were with Louis. That you were taking care of him.”

“Of course,” Harry said, his voice gruff. He cleared his throat, Jay smirking. “You’re welcome. I’d do anything for him. Anything.”

Jay’s gaze lowered, her smile growing softer. She held Harry’s bicep and tilted his shoulder forward. 

“Oh, wow,” she whispered, running her hands over the printed name across his shoulders. “I haven’t seen this one in years.”

“Yeah, there was, uh, a mix-up when we were getting ready to go. I put this on by accident.”

She patted his back.

“It looks adorable on you.” Her eyes narrowed. “You know, you never mentioned what you were doing when he started feeling unwell.”

Harry blinked with highly arched brows, his neutral smile never wavering. He thumbed towards his car.

“We should probably go. I don’t know how long I can park there and Louis seems to be sleeping a lot.”

Jay pursed her lips forward and nodded seriously, Harry’s face flaming red as he put her bag in the boot. He got in and started the car. He and Jay buckled their seat belts at the same time. She gave him a bright smile.

“You’d be surprised how many patients I see who have sex mishaps.” She watched Harry’s eyes bulge, her smile growing. “It’s really nothing to worry about, love.”

Harry blurted out, “But the sex didn’t make his appendix burst! It just happened to happen at the same time!” Jay cackled with her head thrown back. “I asked his surgeon, I swear!”

. . .

They reached the hospital and Harry dropped Jay at the main entrance. He took her bag to Louis’ flat and did a quick clean-up of the bedroom to make sure it was appropriate for guests.

From the set of hospital selfies Niall sent in their group text, he could surmise that Niall had found his way to Louis’ room and Louis was awake. Harry drove back to the hospital and went to Louis’ room. He stood in the doorway as a nurse took Louis’ temperature. Louis’ sleepy eyes glanced at him, his lips smiling around the thermometer. 

“Hi,” Louis whispered, his thermometer bobbing.

Jay smiled at him from Louis’ bedside, Niall flinging himself around Harry’s middle. Louis’ nurse, an older woman with a pure white bob, winked at him.

“Welcome back,” she said, taking the thermometer out. “I think poor Louis was going through hubby withdrawals.”

Louis flushed but laughed softly, Harry chuckling until Jay’s voice announced, “They’re not married.” 

The room went dead silent.

“Oh,” the nurse said, her lips round. She clasped her hands and bowed her head slightly. “I apologize, miss. I did not know.”

“It’s okay,” Louis said, sitting up in bed. “We said we were.”

“But you’re not,” Jay laughed. “Why would you say something like that?”

Louis stared at her for a moment, Niall rolling his eyes up to look at Harry’s mortified, blushing face while Harry studied the floor.

Louis said, “Whether we’re married or not, we just wanted to make sure Harry could come see me whenever he wanted.” He looked to his nurse. “Please, if you could make sure he still has full access or whatever it’s called. He’s my boyfriend. I’m sorry for the mix-up.”

“Sure, of course,” the nurse said. She pasted on a smile, her eyes darting from uncomfortable person to uncomfortable person. “Right, okay, then!” She flicked Louis’ IV bag and went towards the door. “We’ll be back to check on you in a few hours. Try to rest, alright, Louis?”

“Sounds good.”

Harry stepped aside for the nurse, who offered him a wince. He squeezed her shoulder and whispered, “Thanks for your help.”

With one less person in the room, Harry and Niall moved towards the windowsill. Harry glanced at Jay before he went to the other side of Louis’ bed. He bent over and pecked Louis’ cheek. Louis gripped his hair and angled his head to press their lips together. 

“Mrph,” Harry mumbled with Louis’ tongue in his mouth. “Your mum’s--Lou--Urfmhm--” Harry pulled back and licked his lips. “Did you have Jello?”

“Cherry.”

Harry started to smile then stopped, standing up straight, his eyes darting from Jay to Louis. Louis rolled his head towards his mother.

“Mum, what was all that for? Why’d you have to be so mean to that nice nurse?” He yawned, his eyes lulling half shut. “She was sweet and didn’t mean any harm.”

“I wasn’t mean,” Jay insisted.

In the corner of the room, Niall sucked on a striped straw; chocolate milk sputtered loudly at the bottom of a carton that Louis gifted him with. He looked at the group at the bed, who all then looked at each other. Jay sighed and glanced from Louis to Harry. 

She asked, “What’s with the looks? You’re not married. Not yet, at least.” Her bracelets jangled as she brought her hands up to face-level. “It’s disconcerting if the people taking care of my son’s medical wellbeing haven’t even bothered to check whether his husband is real. How do you know they’re not slacking on other details about you?”

Harry started to say, “That’s a good point,” but was interrupted by tiny, dwarf snores coming from the bed. Louis had checked out of their conversation and was sleeping with his mouth open. They all muffled their laughter and started to pack up.

Jay looped her purse over her shoulder. She went to the bed, smoothing Louis’ hair back and whispering in his ear. Louis hummed every few seconds, his voice rasping barely audible replies.

Niall tossed the empty chocolate milk carton in the trash. He pointed from Harry to the door and back to Harry, then motioned hands on a steering wheel and swayed his body side to side.

“Yeah, we can ride together,” Harry said quietly. “I’m sleeping at ours this weekend.”

Niall grinned and gave him two thumbs up. 

“Sleepover!” he shout-whispered.

Harry smiled as he dug through his rucksack and pulled out his phone, pocketing it. He left the bag on a chair beside Louis’ bed and opened the drawer to his nightstand. He slid Louis’ iPad in the drawer and placed his iPhone on top of the nightstand, reaching around to plug his charger in and connect it to the phone.

Niall stopped hugging Louis’ blanket covered ankles and Harry stepped up to the bed. He leaned over, softly kissing Louis’ forehead.

“G’nite,” Harry murmured. “Sleep well, love.”

“Hi,” Louis whispered with his eyes shut. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, it’s time for you to rest up,” Harry said, rubbing Louis’ forearm. He lowered his voice even more. “If you’re up for it, I left something for you in the Dropbox. Something little.” He squeezed the top of Louis’ hand. “Your phone and iPad are right next to you.”

Louis exhaled, “I love you.”

Harry grinned and pecked his cheek.

“I love you, too. See you in the morning.”

Louis got one more hug and kiss from each guest before they left. He reached for his phone. Harry had left his glasses beside his electronics, but he decided to skip his glasses for a quick phone scan. He opened their private Dropbox and found a new file titled Open when alone! Bzzz :). A video started.

“Here we are,” Harry’s voice narrated as he filmed his trip inside Louis’ flat. He scanned the trail of items they left, from the reusable grocery bags on the countertops to their clothing dotting the path to his bedroom. Harry laughed, “Can you hear that?”

The video bobbed down Louis’ bedroom hallway. A dull vibration sound got louder, Louis’ smiling mouth dropping open. Harry laughed harder and the camera went wild for a moment before it focused on the hardwood. The vibrator was spinning in slow circles, occasionally bumping into one of Louis’ old trainers.

“Wow, you should write a review about how good the battery life is! Huh. Guess I should hide it from your mum, yeah? Or do you think she’ll think it’s a neck massager?”

The view changed from the vibrator to Harry’s smiling face.

“I’m kidding, love. I’ll fix the place up, don’t you worry.” He pursed his lips in an air kiss and waved. “Love you. Sleep well. See you tomorrow.”

. . .

Harry unlocked the door to Louis’ flat and quietly called, “Jay?”

“Hi, sweetheart! Be right out.”

He shut the door behind him, able to hear her hurrying around Louis’ bedroom hallway. Jay walked into the kitchen with a big smile on her face. She looked much more rested and comfortable in dark jeans and a flowy white button-down, her flipflops replaced by brown ankle boots. Her smiling eyes fell to Harry’s middle.

“What is all that?”

“I brought breakfast.” Harry handed her a white paper bag and a to-go cup of coffee. “Louis mentioned you like chocolate croissants.” He held up the coffee. “This is a skim latte. He mentioned you like those, too.”

“Oh, Harry, you didn’t have to bring all of this!” She opened the bag and took a deep breath. “Oh, my God, are these fresh?” She cradled the bag to her chest. “They’re warm. Are these yours?”

 

“Yeah, I just baked them, actually.”

Her joy was interrupted by a wave of concern. She folded the bag and stepped closer, her gaze skirting over Harry’s face.

“Did you sleep last night, love?”

“A bit. I ended up going into work to help open. I was,” he scratched the back of his head, “antsy, I guess.”

“Oh, Harry,” she said, softer. “You’ll have to take a nap today. We can’t have you going to hospital this weekend, too!”

They drove to the hospital, chatting easily in the car as they ate pastries and sipped lattes. Harry dropped Jay at the main entrance.

“I can walk with you from the car park,” Jay said, leaning in the open window. “Want me to come with you?” 

“No, that’s alright. I’ll be in shortly. I need to call a few people back and answer emails, so I’ll do a bit of a wander before I go to the room.”

She smiled and nodded, patting the car door. She turned to leave, then spun around, her bottom lip bitten between her teeth.

“Harry, I…You know that I completely support and love your relationship with Louis, right?”

Harry’s lips rounded, his head nodding slowly.

“Right. Yes, I...Okay,” he laughed, Jay laughing along with him. “That’s good to know.”

“I think you’re wonderful and you make him so, so uncontrollably happy and I just meant,” her nose wrinkled, “with how I sort of snapped about the husband thing.”

“Ah.”

“I didn’t mean to snap! You’re both adults and if you want to get married, then by all means, get married. You’d be adorable together, I’m sure!”

The car’s engine revved, Harry easing his foot off the gas and swallowing dryly.

“We, um,” Harry chuckled and rubbed his palm on his forehead, “we’ve...We’ve made, like, mentions of it. Of the future. But nothing, um, big. Yet.”

Jay nodded. She smiled and tapped her hands on the side of the door.

“Alright. See you in there.”

She turned away and Harry called, “But, like...” She spun towards the car, hitching her purse strap on her shoulder. 

“Yes, love?”

Harry started to smile, the left side of his mouth rising higher than the right.

“Like, if we were to,” he swirled his flat hand in the air, “do that. Like, if...If I was to propose to your son. Would you approve? Would I have your permission?”

Jay’s entire face lit up, her blue eyes sparkling and her hands clapping rapidly.

“Of course!” She rushed towards the car. “Have you got the ring yet? Can I see it?”

“No, no, ring yet,” Harry said, his laughter strangled. A car beeped behind him, his eyes glancing at the rear view mirror. He smiled nervously at Jay. “I should park, but, um, yeah. No ring yet. We’re not there yet. But someday, yes, I’d...I know I’d like that.”

Jay grinned and reached into the car, her feet popping off the ground as she pinched both of Harry’s cheeks. The car behind them beeped louder and Harry laughed, Jay releasing his cheeks to walk into the hospital, her crinkled eyes glancing at Harry over her shoulder.

. . .

Louis swallowed a mouthful of water and laid back on his pillows. Before he could say, “Thank you,” the straw was nudged at his lips again.

“Okay, thanks,” he said with water in his mouth. He swallowed. “Thanks.”

“You should drink more, boo.” Jay smoothed his hair back. “Your fever hasn’t broken yet. You need to drink.”

He smiled and shied his mouth away from a persistent straw.

“Mum, I’ve been drinking so much I’m going to float away. Going to toilet is a pain here.”

“I don’t care if it’s a pain,” she laughed with furrowed brows. She pushed the straw forward. “You need to drink. Buck up, babe.”

“Can I have tea instead?” His innocent pout and batted eyelashes softened some of Jay’s hawkeyed concern. “Please?”

“Of course, love.” She placed his cup of water on his bed tray and stood. “Black with a bit of milk?”

“Yes, please.”

She kissed his forehead. 

“Be right back.”

As she walked out the door, Harry appeared. Louis sat up straighter in bed, watching Jay peck Harry’s cheek. Harry laughed softly and squeezed her to his side, Louis smiling wide. 

“Morning, beautiful,” Harry said, stepping into the room. Both hands were clasped behind his back. “How are you feeling? Has your fever broken yet?”

Louis’ eyes lowered to Harry’s middle.

“Oh no, Harry, don’t. Don’t do it here.” He looked up to Harry’s smiling face and shook his head. “Not like this. Not when I’m like this.”

Harry’s brows furrowed.

“Do what?”

Louis balked. It felt as if his fever spiked a few hundred degrees.

“Uh..I...” He glanced at Harry’s hands hidden behind his back. “What have you...” 

Harry stepped closer and stood beside the bed. He rolled up on the balls of his feet. 

“I know you have a strict no clutter policy. However.” He pulled his left hand out from behind his back and held out a round puff of fluffy yellow fabric. “I saw this little guy in the gift shop and I had to buy it for you. I think it’s meant for newborn babies, but we can pretend it’s for appendicitis.”

Louis’ mouth trembled as his throat exhaled, “Aw.” He and Harry looked at each other, Harry grinning while Louis’ face flushed. “Thank you,” he said quietly, petting the head of the soft, stuffed chick perched on his stomach. “It’s...This is so sweet. I can’t believe you remembered that I said the thing about chicks.”

“It was a very memorable phone conversation.”

Louis giggled lightly then winced, holding his stomach. Harry sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed Louis’ thigh. He leaned over and pressed their lips together, Louis’ fingers curling in the hair at the base of his neck. Harry’s eyes crinkled.

“What did you think I had behind my back?” he murmured.

“What? Nothing.”

Harry smiled wider, his knowing look causing Louis’ neck to prickle with heat.

“Did you think I was going to propose to you?”

With their eyes locked and Harry’s hand soothing over his upper thigh, Louis grabbed his pain medication remote and tapped his thumb on the button as fast as he could. Harry laughed and knocked the button out of his hand.

“Stop,” he laughed softly. “Don’t do that. Stay awake and talk to me.”

“I just...I don’t know,” Louis said, clenching his eyes shut. “I know I made a complete fool of myself yesterday.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I was crying.”

“You were under anesthesia and just had an organ removed. I’d have been bawling like a baby. You were a champ.”

Louis smiled shyly and looked at Harry’s hand on his leg. His fingers crawled across the blanket and stroked Harry’s knuckles, sliding their fingers together.

“You’re a really good boyfriend,” Louis whispered, his eyes peeking up at Harry. Harry squeezed his hand, both smiling and staring at each other as a crowd of nurses hurried past the open door. Louis’ jaw dropped. “Oh! Oh, shit! You’re on Top Chef!”

Harry laughed and dropped his gaze. Louis sat up straighter and held Harry’s hand with both hands.

“Yeah, I am. Well, I will be.”

“When I woke up this morning, I thought I hallucinated that, but then I saw that you forwarded me their email, and I nearly died.”

“Good thing you were in a hospital.”

“Ha,” Louis chuckled, fisting the centre of Harry’s shirt. “C’mere, Top Chef.” He pulled and Harry fell forward, their lips bumping. “I’m so, so proud of you.”

“Are you sure the timeline is okay?”

Louis frowned and tilted his head.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because I have to fly to New York in less than a month. I’m going to be gone right as you start training for your new position. ”

“So?”

“I’ll be away for six to eight weeks, plus the possible aftershow stuff.”

“It’s a temporary thing for work; it’s not like you’re moving.”

“Well, I wanted to be here for you. I know that’s going to be a really stressful time. I figured I could help cook and do house stuff, since you’ll be really busy.”

Louis’ frown melted to a starry-eyed smile, a soft breath huffing out of his lips. His grip tightened on Harry’s loose knit jumper.

“You’re so sweet. I can’t believe you thought of all that. You’re so...Shit,” his nostrils flared as he blinked extra wide, “I’m going to start crying again.”

Harry laughed and cupped his face with both hands. He planted a loud, wet kiss on his nose, Louis snorting as Harry’s sucking lips moved to gnaw on his chin. Louis gently pushed his face, Harry’s growling sounds against his neck only making him laugh more until his giggles were swallowed by Harry’s lips.

“You taste like,” Louis licked his lips, “chocolate.”

“I just ate breakfast. Chocolate croissants." Harry kissed him softly, tilting his head for another kiss. “No alien toast, though.”

“Yeah, I heard all about your breakfast surprise. Mum was literally vibrating that she got one of your croissants in person. She Instagrammed a photo and it already has fifty-something likes.”

Harry’s dimples deepened.

“I’m glad,” he chuckled. “She’s sweet.”

Louis pecked the corner of his mouth and laid back. He fingered the neckline of Harry’s blue jumper.

“One timeline thing that I feel like we should talk about is,” he quietly held out the word is, “the flat.”

“What about it?”

“I can’t lift anything for at least a few weeks. How am I supposed to help with the move?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Harry said, stroking the right side of Louis’ hair. “Seriously. I can handle it. You can tell me where to move things and I’ll move them.”

“Harry, you’re going to have work and stress and stuff, too. You can’t wear yourself out.”

“I won’t. We have the moving company. We have the guys. We have time,” Harry said, his voice softer. He smiled and smoothed his hand along Louis’ jawline. “We can live out of boxes for a bit. It’s not the end of the world.”

“But what about your book order?”

Harry laughed.

“Glad to see the mushy, anesthesia version of you has worn off.”

“Mushy me is now concerned with overextended you.”

“It’ll be fine,” Harry said, cupping Louis’ face and smacking their lips together. He pecked his nose, Louis’ eyes crinkling. “Don’t worry about it at all.”

. . .

Louis’ fever broke overnight. He woke up drenched in sweat, which was unpleasant, but was given the okay to go home later that day, which was a relief. The nurses were so obsessed with Harry’s pastry donations that they were very sad to see ‘The Tomlinsons’ go.

Jay stayed at Louis’ flat until he was brought home, where they were greeted by Liam, Zayn, Niall, and so many rainbow balloons they had to carry them up the stairs in shifts. Dr. Hughes informed Louis that he could not go into work for at least a week, which worked out well with Simon’s offer for Louis to work from home, at his own pace, for however long he needed to recover.

“If you want to work, work. If you want to nap and eat ice cream all day, nap and eat ice cream all day. It’s whatever you want, L,” were his exact words (via an email sent from his iPad). 

Simon’s version of work from home involved him sending an intern over to set up a desk, an office phone, a borrowed company laptop, and a wireless printer, plus another arrangement of vibrant, fresh flowers.

“Is Simone hiring?” Liam asked, sniffing a daisy with his eyes shut.

Louis slept more that week than he ever had. He woke up late, napped at least twice a day, and went to bed earlier than Harry, who slept over most nights. There was an unofficial rotation of people keeping watch over him throughout the day, the guys often taking turns napping in Louis’ bed with him depending on who was free. Liam, in particular, had become addicted to a variety of reality shows due to his constant naps with Louis.

Harry and Louis completed their finishing touches for the move as best they could. The moving company had been confirmed. Boxes had been taped and stacked at the door. Their joint bank account had its first withdrawal for their deposit and rent (plus a set of lighthouse shaped salt and pepper shakers Harry couldn’t pass up). 

Harry popped in on Louis whenever he wasn’t at work or doing an errand for the move. He was always careful to take off his shoes and tiptoe into Louis’ bedroom, where he would find Louis fast asleep with his fluffy yellow chick tucked between his face and his neck. When Louis would wake to soft kisses trailing around his tiny surgery scars, he would simply smile and stroke Harry’s hair before drifting back asleep.

And then it was the weekend. The first weekend of October. The big, exciting, move-in weekend.

“Your planning saved the day,” Louis said into Harry’s chest. Harry hummed and kissed the top of his head, their arms tightening around each other. He reached around Louis and pushed the button for the seventh floor. “Seriously.” Louis kissed his collarbone. “Thank you for being so on top of everything. You said the moving company took care of all our stuff already?”

“Yup. They were great.”

The lift doors shut. Louis yawned and leaned back on the metal wall, lacing his fingers with Harry’s.

“Why’d you let me sleep so late today? I could have kept you company, even if I couldn’t carry anything.”

“Because you needed to sleep,” Harry said, squeezing his hand. “You worked from home all week. You needed the rest. Plus, since Zayn doesn’t need the room right away, we were able to take our time.”

“But I could have helped you arrange our stuff.”

“Most of our things are still in boxes and you drew very clear plans for the furniture.”

“You didn’t have to follow them exactly,” Louis hurried to say, standing up straighter. “You could have arranged everything however you want.”

Harry smiled slowly.

“We planned it together. You sketched while I rambled.” Harry held his hand up for a high five. “Teamwork.”

Louis slapped their hands together. Mischief sparkled in his small smile.

“I’ve never heard someone take so long to say, ‘The sofa could be by the window.’”

“Hey,” Harry laughed lowly. 

The doors pinged open. Both of their faces lit as if a spotlight had been pointed at them. Sunlight poured through skylights, the blue door waiting for them at the other end of the hall. Louis held his hand out and Harry grasped it, both stepping out of the lift with their right feet first.

“Seems silly to be so excited when we’ve seen the place a million times,” Louis said, swaying their arms between them.

“I know, but still,” Harry turned his head and grinned, “it’s exciting.” His shoulders shimmied. “I’m so excited.”

Louis grinned and pressed his nose to Harry’s outer bicep. Harry broke their hand hold to curl his arm around Louis’ shoulders. He pulled him into his body with his best cannibal growl, Louis giggling and hugging him around his middle. They took their last steps to the blue door.

“Alright,” Louis said, reaching into his pocket. He took out his keys, letting sunlight glint off the freshly cut metal. He jingled his keys. “We’re doing this.”

“We are totally doing this,” Harry said, giving each word a nod and extra emphasis.

Louis put the key in the lock and turned his wrist. The door unlocked, both gasping. Harry pushed the door open. They stared into their flat in slack-jawed silence, the city buzzing in the distance through the floor to ceiling windows. The hardwood and granite seemed even shinier than their last visit, an overwhelming feeling of comfort and space settling into their bellies.

Harry cried, “We’re home!” and slid his arms under Louis’ legs and shoulders. He scooped him up, Louis laughing and kicking his feet. Harry stepped over the threshold and started to spin, crooning, “We’re home!” 

“We’re home!” Louis said between loud, bubbled laughs. He kissed Harry square on the lips, Harry spinning faster. Louis giggled out, “We’re home! We’re--Oh, my God!” His jaw dropped, his hands tightening on the back of Harry’s hair. “You set it up so beautiful! Harry! It’s amazing!”

Harry stopped spinning, happy breaths panting out of his mouth. He lowered Louis to the ground. The second Louis’ trainers hit the floor he gripped Harry’s hand and pulled him into the kitchen. Louis opened the oven and gasped. 

“What is--What is this!? Is it--Is this the lamb?” 

“See, that’s the nice thing about buying fresh meat from a reputable butcher.” Harry took a wooden spoon out of the utensil drawer beside the oven. “You can freeze it when it’s fresh,” he poked a pan of roasted beet roots, “then defrost it,” a pan of simmering, buttery carrots got a quick toss, “and it’ll be as good as it was the day you got it. I figured we could call the recipe,” he looked at Louis over his shoulder and his lips quirked higher, “Lover’s Lamb.”

“Oh, God,” Louis groaned, his eyes fluttering shut. He gripped Harry’s sides and pulled him into his body. “Harry.” He took the wooden spoon and tossed it on the counter, wrapping his arms around his waist and shuffling backwards. “If I had another appendix, it’d be bursting right now.”

Harry barked a laugh, his boots scuffing on the hardwood. Louis guided them to the bedroom. They were met by a room full of boxes, but their bed stood proudly in the centre of the space. Deep purple sheets contrasted with the white duvet and white tufted leather headboard, the hardwood floor and bed frame giving warmth to the modern space.

“Of course,” Louis laughed, holding his hand out towards the bed. “Of course you set everything up. You ironed the duvet cover. You fluffed the pillows. And, fuck me,” he shook his head, Harry kissing down the side of his neck, “that headboard. Those sheets. That...Ungh,” he weakly groaned, “the next week without sex is going to be a challenge.”

Harry kissed behind his ear and took a step back.

“We’ll make it work.”

Louis sat on the edge of the bed and spread his legs, looping his feet behind Harry’s knees. He quirked both fingers towards himself.

“Get on me.” He smiled innocently. “Please.”

“Lou,” Harry warned, smiling and kneeling on either side of Louis’ thighs. Louis toed his trainers off. “We’re both tired from today and we cannot push it.” Louis’ hands cradled his face to slot their lips together. “I’m...I’m serious,” he said, sounding weaker, Louis kissing him again. “Your,” his plush lips were caught on the single word, “your, uh,” their lips made a slipping sound as Louis’ fingernails carded through the back of his hair, “insides might go all wild.”

“Mmm,” Louis hummed against Harry’s lips. “You make my insides go all wild.”

Harry chuckled and flattened on top of him, his hands sliding up Louis’ ribs under his shirt. His skin was so warm, his curves welling softly under Harry’s palms. 

“No sex,” Harry breathed.

“I just want to break in our new bed, which you so lovingly put together and made,” Louis said, gripping Harry’s arse. Their lips seared. “And the rule is no sex for me. Not you.”

“What does that mean?”

Louis rolled Harry onto his back, the heel of his right hand flattening on Harry’s fly. He applied enough pressure to make Harry’s eyes squint half shut, his lower back arching.

“What’s this now?” Harry asked with a hazy smile.

Louis leaned lower and ran his nose along Harry’s jawline. His lips brushed his ear as he massaged him through his pants.

“So, just to review,” Louis whispered, opening his lips to suck beneath his ear. He swayed his head to make eye contact with Harry, his smiling eye glowing bright blue. “I’m going to play with your cock a bit, ask some questions, and blow you. That’s it.”

Harry’s body shuddered wildly, Louis laughing low in his throat as he mouthed Harry’s earlobe.

“Oh God,” Harry moaned, his voice breaking. “We--We live together.”

Louis lifted his face and smiled, the tips of their noses rubbing together. He nodded.

“We live together.”

“We love each other.”

“We love each other.” Louis held Harry’s face in his hand and pulled him down, their kiss causing both of their lips to smush as they laughed. “We love each other very much.”

Harry’s eyes lit up.

“Let’s go fool around on the terrace before dinner.”

“On our terrace.”

Harry groaned deeply and rolled his hips up.

“Tell me more.”

“Our terrace,” Louis said, Harry easing him onto his side. “In our flat. Which has our--” He exhaled a breathy laugh, Harry pulling him to his feet. “Our fancy kitchen. With our...Our boxes of wooden spoons.” Harry laughed but went for a kiss, their legs tangling as their lips bumped together. “And our...Our…” 

Louis hummed, his arms winding around Harry’s neck. He twirled Harry’s lowest curls, walking blind with his eyes shut and their lips connected. Harry’s lips opened and licked into Louis’ mouth, their steps growing more off balance. Louis heard the terrace door open and opened his eyes. 

Harry led him out into the sunshine with a beaming grin, warm hands gently gripping his arse, Louis grinning right back at him.

. . .

In Louis’ flat that he shared with Liam, their intercom made a fairly standard buzzing sound when someone rang from the front door. Their building was new compared to some of the other structures in their neighbourhood. The buzz sounded like an updated version of what an old door buzzer would sound like in a television recreation.

Harry and Niall’s place was an older structure and came with an equally old buzzer. Sometimes, the sound would blare like a ringing school bell for a split second before giving out. Other times, it would beep sporadically, like someone was speaking in Morse Code through their intercom. Once in a while, it would not ring at all; it would faintly buzz like a bee trapped against a windowpane.

Amidst all their planning for the big move, they neglected to check what the doorbell sounded like in their new home.

A gentle, soothing vibration piped in their dark bedroom. It sounded again. And then again. An open terrace door creaked ever so slightly in the wind, white curtains billowing into the room. The unconscious duo curled around each other in the centre of the bed but did not stir. Lamb induced coma was to blame.

The doorbell rang at the same time as both of their iPhones starting to vibrate. Louis hummed and nuzzled his nose deeper into sweet, soft waves. His arms tightened around Harry’s bare waist, his hands sliding up to rest flat on the centre of his chest. Harry’s feet shuffled under the sheets.

Louis heard Harry swallow and slap his lips together, chilly toes sliding between Louis’ ankles.

“What’s that noise?” Louis whispered without opening his eyes.

It took Harry a moment to answer, “Dunno.”

The door buzzed again, a text coming through on Louis’ phone. The sound of his phone made Louis’ eyes open. He turned his head ever so slightly to rest his cheek against the back of Harry’s shoulder.

“S’Nighttime. Dark in here.”

Harry’s toes stopped running up Louis’ calf. 

“What time is it?”

Louis reached over him and picked up Harry’s watch.

“Eight. Wow, we,” he yawned, “passed out.”

Harry hummed and settled down, Louis curling around him. The low tone vibrated in the background. Louis squinted at the open bedroom door.

“Did you buy a robot to go with the salt and pepper shakers?”

“No. Sadly.”

“Is that…” Louis pushed himself up on his forearm. “Is that our door?”

Harry’s eyes shot open.

“Oh, shoot. I forgot that I told the guys to come by.” He rolled over the right edge of the bed. “I think they’re bringing pizza.”

Louis laughed and used his feet to push the duvet down. He stretched his legs to the end of the bed and held his breath, yawning it out. Harry glanced over his shoulder as he pulled on loose black sweats. Louis smiled with his lips closed and tucked his hands behind his head. 

“You have such a sexy back.”

While tying his hair in a high bun, Harry’s eyes scanned from Louis’ bare feet to his elbows, taking in every inch of naked, tanned skin. 

“I can’t believe I get to see this all the time.”

Louis bent his legs in a lotus position and arched his lower back. Harry hummed, crawling across the mattress in just his black sweats that tapered at his ankles.

“Go answer the door,” Louis said on a laugh, Harry’s lips nibbling his stomach. “And tell me which box has my clothes in it.”

“Mmm, never,” Harry murmured against his navel. Louis sat up and reached for his phone, his stomach rippling beneath Harry’s lips. Quietly, Harry chanted, “Heal, little spots, heal.”

Louis smiled and thumbed a text with his arms resting on top of Harry’s shoulders, Harry kissing from taped scar to taped scar. The phone rang for a split second before Louis tapped the screen.

“Sorry, Li, we’re up,” Louis said, holding the phone with one hand while scratching between Harry’s shoulder blades. A tiny, involuntary moan left Harry’s lips. “We’ll be there in a second.”

“Look, if you two are still engaging in coitus, say the word and we’ll circle the block.”

Harry laughed loudly, Louis snorting, “We’re not. We’re fine. We just fell asleep, that’s all.”

They got up, got dressed, and went into the living room. Harry searched for the door buzzer while Louis searched for glasses and plates. Without asking Louis what he was looking for, Harry went into the kitchen and lifted a box onto the island, tapping his fingers against the neatly printed **GLASSWARE** written in Sharpie on the side. The front door opened.

“Woah-oh!” Zayn said. Liam whistled through his teeth. “Look at this palace!”

Louis smiled and shook his head as he pulled out wine glasses. Harry jogged into the living room.

“Welcome!” He hugged Zayn first. “You’re our first official guests, even though you two have been here while carrying boxes, but we can pretend everything is set up already.” He hugged Liam. “Sorry about the mountains of boxes and general lack of organization.”

Liam said, “Who cares about boxes. This place is beautiful!” He squeezed Harry’s shoulders, smiling wide. “Seriously, you two picked a gorgeous place. Congratulations! Great neighbourhood, too, obviously.”

Zayn chuckled and looped his arm around Liam’s waist.

“Shit, check out that sofa.” Zayn looked up, his eyes illuminated gold. “Sick light fixtures, as well.”

“Wait,” Liam went towards the kitchen with their hands joined, “do you have another toilet besides this one?”

“Yeah, we have an en suite, plus that one,” Harry said. He walked by Louis and nudged their hips. “You should check out the towel storage set-up in there. Pretty well planned out, if I do say so myself.”

Louis smirked at Harry, his hands submerged in a box of utensils.

“Where’s my Irish?” Louis asked, stepping around the island. Niall had to work that morning and, much to his horror, was unable to help carry boxes. “I smell pizza, so you must be near, Nialler.”

They found Niall standing in the doorway with his hands on his cheeks and his jaw dropped, a stack of pizza boxes behind him. Niall’s eyes landed on Harry’s face.

“Christ, Haz, whose rich aunt died!?”

Harry grinned and pulled him into a hug, walking them into the flat. Niall gripped his shirt. 

“I’m serious, mate. You’ve got a lift! That’s insane!”

“It’s one of my favourite parts of the place,” Louis said, appearing in front of them. He hugged Niall on one side while Harry continued to hug Niall on the other, Niall’s eyes closing with a blissful smile. “Let’s eat on the terrace, yeah?”

“You have a terrace!?” Niall exclaimed.

“We do,” Harry said. “We’ll have to give you a tour and--Ah! Don’t you dare,” he teasingly warned, darting to the stack of pizza boxes. He pecked Louis’ cheek. “No lifting, remember?”

“It’s just pizza.”

Harry deadpanned, “No. Lifting.”

Louis fluttered his lashes and sighed, “Fine, fine,” though Harry caught his smile before he turned away. 

They gave Zayn, Niall, and Liam a tour. They laughed and endured a good natured ribbing as they went from room to room, which included Niall sprawling on their bed and declaring, “This is where the magic happens,” plus Liam and Zayn getting ‘lost’ in the guest bedroom. They ended the tour on the terrace.

“I love this outdoor stuff,” Liam said, bouncing on the white linen sofa. Harry handed him a glass of red wine. “I’m gonna start scaling the building and sneaking up here like Batman.”

Harry stretched over to hand Zayn wine and offered, “We could put a tent out here for you.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Liam laughed.

“We should plan a camping trip,” Zayn said, swirling his wine. His eyes sparkled at Harry. “Especially if Hot Legs is in charge of all picnic baskets.”

Harry laughed as he opened a box of pizza. Louis sat next to Liam and snagged a spinach slice.

“Buying the set from the people before us was probably one of the smarter things we did,” he said, blowing on his pizza. Harry sat beside him and started handing out folded paper towels. “It would have been a pain to get a whole new set up here, and it’s in such good condition.”

Niall dropped into a white chair and cried, “Wait! No eating yet.” The guys looked at him, each holding a piece of pizza to their lips. Niall hoisted his glass of red in the air. “We need to toast.”

The quintet raised their glasses of red wine. They stared at each other for a moment before bursting out laughing at the same time.

“This feels so funny because we’re still going to see each other all the time now,” Louis said, leaning into Harry’s warmth.

Liam asked, “Have I mentioned how happy I am that you’re not moving to New York?” 

Louis smiled and rubbed Liam’s upper back, their eyes crinkling at each other.

“A few times. Oh! Actually,” Louis lifted his glass, “we have to toast Harry, future Top Chef contestant,” he dropped his voice to whisper, “and winner, but we have to keep that on the down low.”

“Aw, you don’t have to toast to that,” Harry chuckled, Louis squeezing his knee. “We should toast to you and your new job.”

“Right, so, have neither of you ever been to a housewarming before?” Zayn asked amusedly. “We’re supposed to be toasting to you and,” he swayed his glass around the perimeter of the white fairy-light covered terrace, “your beautiful new home.”

“Oh,” Harry and Louis said, nodding together. 

They watched Niall, Zayn and Liam raise their glasses and leaned forward.

“To Harry and Louis,” Zayn said, Niall and Liam repeating him.

Their glasses clinked over the coffee table of pizza, fairy lights reflecting off the glass.

“Here’s to friendship, new beginnings, happy homes, and,” Liam said, his brows furrowed and his lips pouted forward. “And…”

“And friendship?” Niall said.

“We said that already,” Zayn laughed. “Um…” He swirled his glass in the air. “Art? Beauty?”

“Art’s a good one,” Liam nodded, “and beauty is always nice, but I had another one on the tip of my tongue. I’ll get it. Um…”

Louis’ eyes flickered to Harry, who was already looking at him with a soft smile. 

“And adventure,” Louis said quietly, Harry smiling wider and clinking their glasses. Their fingers tangled on the sofa. “Always adventure.”

. . .

. . .

That December...

. . .

. . .

Louis crossed his arms across his chest and leaned his bum against a metal column. The chill outside had finally left his bones, his neck starting to sweat beneath his white knit scarf. His eyes caught on a tall fellow with long brown hair dashing across the terminal. When the man turned and revealed he was pushing fifty, Louis’ posture relaxed. He glanced up at the ARRIVALS board and bit the inside of his bottom lip, antsy energy vibrating in his chest.

Adventure was something he was always game for. Harry being away for almost two months while filming Top Chef was an adventure he could get behind one-hundred percent, even if it came with some minor obstacles. 

It was difficult to keep it a secret from all of their friends and family, but no one was supposed to know where Harry was the entire time he was gone. The NDA Harry had to sign made his time on a reality show sound more like jail. Harry’s cover story was that he was selected for a pastry training seminar in the French countryside due to his wins at the London Food and Wine Awards. There was no cell service and no computers available in the fictional French location, hence him dropping off the map.

Contestants were kept on location in a holding house even after they were kicked off to make sure no secrets were leaked before the show aired. Louis didn’t even know how far Harry had made it. Other than two brief, hurried phone calls that were filmed and recorded, he had not heard Harry’s voice the entire time he was gone. Their Dropbox full of old videos had never been more valuable than when he wanted a hit of Harry’s rambling thoughts or throaty laughter. December fifteenth had not come fast enough.

A deep, New York accented voice asked, “Is that my gorgeous boyfriend?”

Louis’ head snapped to the right. He barely had time to turn his entire body in Harry’s direction before they slammed together.

“My love,” Harry murmured against his neck. “Oh, God, Lou,” he kissed from his jawline to his lips, “I missed you so much.”

Louis let out a high pitched, squealed sound and hugged him tighter. Their lips kept pushing too hard or too off centre or with too much air being blown into each other’s faces, but they simply laughed and kept kissing, Louis’ hands clenched in the back of Harry’s hair, Harry holding him around his upper back.

“You’re so beautiful,” Harry said, his voice still a low, warm murmur. His hot palms cradled Louis’ cheeks, his eyes skittering over Louis’ face. “God, Louis, you’re so fucking beautiful.” Louis tightened his grip on his hair. “I’m--I missed you so much.” His voice thickened, air rushing out of his nostrils. “It was so hard without you.”

Weeks of being apart, distracting himself with HGTV projects in their new flat, sleeping on Harry’s unchanged pillowcase in Harry’s tanks, and stress from training for his new position caught up to Louis in that instant.

“Harry,” he choked out.

Louis planted his face in Harry’s neck, inhaling a long breath beneath his ear. Harry cackled and stretched his neck, Louis sighing happily and resting his forehead on Harry’s shoulder. He rolled his head sideways and grinned up at Harry.

“How are you tan?” He stood on tiptoe and kissed him wetly. “You were in New York City in the winter. How are you magically tan?”

“Without giving anything away,” Harry’s big eyes darted around the airport, his voice dropping to whisper, “there might have been a challenge not in New York. But,” his smile went sneaky, “you’ll just have to watch like everyone else and see.”

Louis made a locking lips motion with his fingers and threw away the key.

“Let’s go home,” Louis said. He gripped the handle of Harry’s small suitcase and looped his arm around his lower back. “Did you have fun?”

“I did,” Harry said with a weary, but warm, smile. “It was so, so hard. Like, the most stressful, tiring weeks of my life. I’m so tired I can barely stand up,” he chuckled, “but it was worth it. I made some cool friends. Met some cool, um,” his laughter grew more bubbly, Louis smiling confusedly, “judges. Oh my God, I don’t know how I’m going to keep my mouth shut for so many months. I can’t wait for you to see bits of it and to tell you things.”

Louis let go of Harry’s suitcase to wrap his arms around his neck, their lips searing together with an audible hiss. Harry gripped Louis’ arse, Louis pushing him up against a pillar. Louis’ open lips pried Harry’s mouth open, both humming while their hands wandered under layers of jumpers and coats.

“Okay,” Louis breathed, sniffling quickly and stepping back. He smiled at Harry’s dazed stare. “Home. Let’s go.” He patted his pocket. “And I’m driving. I’ve gotten attached to cruising around in your Pussy Wagon.”

Harry giggled and pushed off the pillar, grasping Louis’ hand and starting towards the exit.

. . .

“Louis.”

Louis nudged his chin up, resulting in his nose pressing into Harry’s nipple. He took a slow breath, his feet bicycling under the covers, but he did not wake, his lips smushed and drooling slightly.

“Louis,” Harry whispered again. 

Louis grunted, “Mmrph.” 

Harry stroked the back of Louis’ neck and brought his lips to his ear.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

It took a moment before a quiet, “Mmhmm,” vibrated against Harry’s chest. Louis clumsily touched where Harry’s breaths were ruffling his hair. “What?”

Harry traced the arch of his neck with light fingertips.

“You promise not to tell anyone for at least...Three months? Depending on when the show airs?”

“Promise.”

Harry smoothed both hands between Louis’ shoulder blades, his smile growing.

“I...won us a car,” he whispered. Louis’ lazy breaths stopped altogether. “And a trip to Italy.”

Louis sucked air in his lungs and lifted his upper body at the same time, resembling an over-excited raptor with major bedhead.

“What?” he laughed breathily, propping himself up on Harry’s chest. “You won a car!?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, giggling. “It’s cute. A Toyota RAV4. Kind of like a smaller version of my car.”

“A trip to Italy!?”

“Tuscany, yeah. We can go wine tasting, eat pasta, all that good stuff.”

Louis’ head shook side to side without his control, his ecstatic, open-mouthed smile frozen on his face.

“Holy shit, that’s incredible!”

“I also won us a year-long subscription to Food and Wine Magazine. Oh, and ten thousand dollars, courtesy of Gladware.”

Louis attached himself to Harry like a starfish, his limbs wrapped tight around Harry’s body as they both laughed.

“You can’t tell anyone,” Harry said, quick kisses on the front of his neck making him giggle. “You promise?”

“I promise. But, oh,” Louis stopped kissing and held Harry’s face with both hands, “did you…” His voice became a hushed whisper. “Did you make it into the finals?”

Harry’s smile dampened for a split-second. He shook his head.

“No, I just missed it. I was eliminated last before the final three chefs. I’ll have to go to Mexico in February for the finale taping, though, and I’m guessing one of the final contestants is going to pick me to be his sous if that’s part of the finale. Hey! You should use your flight credit from the New York trip to meet me in Mexico. We can make it into a holiday.”

“That sounds amazing, but...Oh, Harry,” Louis said sadly, thumbing his cheeks. He pressed their lips together, kissing each corner of his mouth twice. “I’m sorry, baby. You worked so hard.”

“It’s alright.” Harry’s smile reappeared, softened by sleep but with glowing eyes. “My new friend, Alex, the chef from Exter that lives in LA, you know?”

“Yeah, I remember him”

“Well, he and the other people in the finale are so, so much more advanced than me. They own proper restaurants and all that. I think I was just lucky with some of the challenges, to be honest. I really shouldn’t have made it as long as I did. They started calling me Lucky,” he snuffled, Louis tracing his temple and smiling, “because I seemed to have a knack for the good prizes.”

Louis cradled Harry’s cheek and slotted their lips, sucking gently on Harry’s bottom lip.

“I’m so proud of you.” He straddled Harry, rubbing his palms over his nipples. “So incredibly proud.”

Harry’s eyes slid from Louis’ face to under the duvet. His brows arched, his smile growing.

“What are you doing? You have work in a few hours.”

He received no reply besides a smattering of giggles released against his chest, Louis kissing down his stomach and disappearing under the covers. Harry barked a laugh and shut his legs, his heels sliding up on the bed.

. . .

“Oh, fuck,” Louis panted, pressing the back of his head into his pillow. His dazed eyes stared at the ceiling, sweat dripping down his temples to pool at his collar bones. His eyes twitched shut and his mouth fell open, as he ground down towards the hot tongue teasing his slick arsehole. “Harry--”

Harry pressed his lips to Louis’ arsehole and hummed deeply, Louis’ thighs hugging his head and his moans growing louder.

“Fuck me again. Please, please, please. Fuck me.”

Harry took his time circling his tongue before he murmured, “You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, please.”

“How about you keep those hands up like we said? Unless,” he prodded Louis’ entrance with the very tip of his tongue, “you want me to tie you up?”

Louis groaned and let go of his cock, his shaky hands rising to grip the headboard.

“H-Happy?” Louis gasped.

Harry looked up the bed, everything but his eyes hidden by Louis’ body. He laughed lowly, his lips vibrating against Louis’ rim. Louis sighed a groan and shut his eyes, his biceps clenching.

Harry’s palms smoothed over the fronts of Louis’ hips, lowering to anchor his grip on his thighs. He kissed the crease of his thigh, Louis’ legs butterflying open. He lathed the flat of his tongue over Louis’ arse, licking from balls to opening and back. His mouth leisurely sucked one of Louis’ balls, his tongue pressing into the fleshy, thin skin.

Louis whimpered, “Ple-e-ase,” high in his throat as his inner thighs trembled. His small stomach puffed out to breathe in. “Please, Harry?”

Harry kissed up to the base of Louis’ cock, crunching his nose in the dark, damp hair leading up to his navel.

“Say croissant.”

“Never,” Louis rasped.

Harry tutted his tongue, but started a gentle jerk of Louis’ cock. Even his light touch made Louis’ thighs twitch inwards, a weak, purred moan escaping Louis’ lips. Harry’s lips brushed his dripping head and Louis cried out, his fingers digging into the headboard.

“Fuck yes,” Louis said on a gasp. “Thank fuck.”

“How could I ever deny you anything?”

Louis propped himself up on his elbows and glared at the top of Harry’s head.

“You’ve been edging me for over an hour and a half.”

Harry looked up and smiled crookedly.

“That’s true.” He licked his lips. “We’ve got all day, though, so…”

Louis fell onto his back with an exhausted sigh, his arms bent and flat above his head. His smile grew as Harry kissed up his ribs, but he turned his face away. Low growls with each kiss caused his stubborn smile to dissolve into giggles, Harry ending his path of kisses by biting on his neck with an extra loud growl that made both laugh.

It was Saturday, December the nineteenth, and Harry had been back home for four days. They had been so sexually active within those four days that Louis wore mismatched shoes to work twice, paid for tea at Costa and left before receiving said tea three times, and actually did call out sick on Friday. 

Strong arms encircled his upper body, Harry’s weight settling on his middle. Louis spread his legs and dug his heels into the bed. Harry nipped his neck and pinned him down with his body, Louis’ right leg higher than his left as he hugged Harry’s hips.

Wordlessly, Harry’s fingers spread him open and nudged his tip against his arse, lube and pre-come sliding between them. Harry pressed inside of him, his lips ghosting over Louis’ chin. Louis grunted and arched his lower back.

“Oh God,” Louis whispered, his voice broken by a sudden, deeper thrust. Harry’s hair tickled the side of his neck, Harry’s head bobbing forward and back as his balls slapped Louis’ arse. “Fuck, Harry. Fuck me. Oh! Fuck!” The headboard slammed against the wall. “Fuck, Harry!”

Harry let out a choppy laugh and thrust faster, Louis’ voice going up in both pitch and volume. Louis could only take so many rounds of back and forth fucking and arse eating before he was screaming, “Harry!” at the top of his lungs and shooting high enough for come to reach his chin. Harry collapsed on top of him, their breaths loud and frantic. 

Louis lowered his right hand and gripped Harry’s arse cheek. He gave him a gentle slap.

“Welcome home,” he rasped, Harry chuckling against his neck. 

“I love it when you get loud.”

Louis stretched his arms above his head.

“I love that we live alone and I can get loud. And we’ve been fucking like actual banshees, so it’s a good thing we live alone.” 

Harry dragged his nose under Louis’ jawline, murmuring, “Actual banshees? Is there going to be an addendum to our cannibal-mind reader book about banshees?”

Louis moaned weakly and wrapped Harry in his arms.

“I love that you said addendum while you’re still inside of me.”

They eventually separated and sprawled on their backs, the duvet low on their bellies. Harry held Louis’ hand on top of his chest, toying with his middle finger.

“Wanna get brunch?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Louis rolled onto his side and flattened his hand on Harry’s stomach, the duvet covering half his arse. “Where do you want to go?”

“Wherever. We can wander.”

“Cool.”

“Actually,” Harry smiled, his eyes twinkling, “there’s a new place I think we should checkout, if they can seat us.”

“Yeah? What’s it called?”

“Brunch Surprise,” Harry said with French pronunciation.

“Brunch Surprise?”

“Surprise Brunch,” Harry said in his regular voice.

“Huh.” Louis propped his head up with his hand and swayed one foot in the air, the duvet tenting. “I’ve never heard of it. It’s new?”

“Yeah, just opened. I read about it online.”

“Alright. Sounds good to me.”

They got out of bed and went into the en suite. Harry walked behind Louis, holding him around his waist and kissing behind his ear. Louis smiled sleepily and squeezed Harry’s hand.

“I’m gonna get tea quick. You want?”

“I’ll get it for you,” Harry said, guiding Louis to the large shower. “You relax.”

Louis laughed and looked over his shoulder.

“Why?”

The right side of Harry’s mouth slowly rose.

“Because I missed you and I want to spoil you while I’m still off from work. Next weekend,” he pinched Louis’ arse, “you’re on your own in the morning.”

Harry turned on the water and kissed Louis’ shoulder before he left the en suite, pulling the door shut behind him. Louis got into the shower and was joined by Harry minutes later, a mug of tea left on the sink countertop. Harry’s plans for spoiling him included washing his hair not once but twice, massaging his shoulders each time he put conditioner in, and lazy kisses after each rinse. 

When Harry reached for the shampoo again, Louis laughed, “Love, I think my hair is clean.” 

The bathroom was full of fog once they were done. Harry drew a smiley face with large, round eyes in the mirror, Louis using said smiley face to help pop his contacts in. 

They shared one mug of tea in the bedroom and got dressed. Dressing was a difficult task when Harry kept wrapping his arms around Louis and guiding him to the bed to peel his clothes off.

“We’re going to miss brunch if you keep distracting me,” Louis murmured, his eyes crinkled. He pursed his lips, Harry kissing him softly. “It’ll be dinner time.”

Harry grinned and propped himself up on one elbow. He trailed his fingers down to Louis’ navel.

“Hey, why don’t you wear that white jumper you like?”

Louis blinked. Harry usually limited his fashion comments to compliments and rarely made requests besides asking Louis to take his clothes off. 

“Oh. Uh, okay. I can wear that. Is the new brunch place fancy or something?”

“No, it’s not fancy. You said you like how it fits, and you look so gorgeous in it.”

“Yeah, it’s my favourite. Alright.” Louis smiled and pushed Harry’s hair out of his eyes. “I’ll throw it on.”

They both wore black skinnies. Harry selected a pale purple jumper and chocolate suede Chelsea boots for himself, Louis wearing his white jumper and black Vans with his ankles peeking out. They faced each other in front of their wardrobe.

“We look like Easter eggs,” Louis said. Harry laughed and bent at the waist, running a brush through the back of his hair. Louis stepped closer and ran his fingers through Harry’s hair. “You’ve got proper romance novel hair now.”

Harry flipped his hair back and stood up straight. 

“Do you think I should cut it?”

“No way. Looks amazing.”

Harry smiled, bending down to peck Louis’ lips, Louis’ palms stroking over the shiny, thick strands. Harry picked up his phone and hit the Home button, his eyes darting from Louis’ face for a fraction of a second to glance at his screen. He dropped his hand to his side and looped his arm around Louis’ shoulders.

“You ready?”

“Yup.”

Harry walked them to the door of their bedroom and put his hand on the knob. He opened the door a crack but stopped, his scrunched face turning away. He sneezed into his forearm.

“Bless you.”

“Thank you,” he said, sneezing louder a second time. He pushed the door open and held his arm out. “After you.”

“Such a gentleman.”

Louis walked down the hallway, Harry behind him and rubbing between his shoulder blades. 

“Oh, do we need to get cash for brunch? Is it a cash-only place?” Louis half turned back to the bedroom. “I think I’ve only got a bit in my wallet.”

“Nope.”

Harry’s voice sounded shaky, as if he was on the brink of laughter. Louis stared at him confusedly and Harry let out a short, low laugh. He held Louis’ hips and spun them to the end of the hall, Louis laughing, “Harry, what are you--”

A chorus of voices shouted, “Congratulations, Louis!” and, “Happy birthday, Louis!” in a competition of who could yell the loudest.

Louis froze with one arm in the air and one foot lifted off the ground. His eyes bounced from face to face, his hand reaching for Harry. Friends and family laughed and clapped from beneath a circus tent of gauzy white material that spanned the entire living room, camera phone shutters clicking and flashes blinding him.

His entire family was there, including his Nan and Grandpa resting on two overstuffed armchairs. Liam, Zayn and Niall stood in the front with Damini, Ravi and Ed. Anne, Robin and Gemma smiled at him from the side of the room closest to the terrace. Suzi and a couple of friends from work were clapping and whistling through their fingers. Helena and Henri were there along with Simon and Simone, who were sipping mimosas out of champagne flutes Louis did not think he and Harry were in possession of; maybe Simon traveled with personal glassware at all times.

“Oh my God, what--Did you--” Louis’ wide, wet eyes flew to Harry, who grinned beside him, his shoulders swaying happily. “What did you do?”

“God, you’re hard to surprise,” Harry exhaled on a laugh. His face flushed, his hand cradling the back of Louis’ head. “This is for you, love.” He softly kissed his cheek. “This is your day.” 

“But what is this all for? I don’t--Oof!”

He was bombarded by a wall of sisters, Jay rushing up behind them and wrapping her arms around all of her children. Harry’s eyes crinkled at him and he stroked the back of his neck once before moving towards his own family. Louis pressed his face into Lottie’s shiny blonde hair, trying to take in their rearranged flat.

Their dining table had been moved into the living room and set up beneath the tent, an additional table added to lengthen it and chairs neatly lined up on either side. Thick, white pillar candles were lit every foot or so on top of the table. Short, round vases held small arrangements of white peonies evenly spaced between the candles. Bunches of white and silver balloons floated around their living room, the curtains for the terrace wide open and filling the room with bright, cheerful sunlight.

Platters of fruit and small breakfast bites, like mini quiches and bundles of bacon, covered the surface of the table. There was a variety of sparkling, colourful beverages in clear glass pitchers, one made with orange juice and the other a cranberry coloured cocktail. Louis could smell even more food cooking on the stove and in the oven. 

Louis giggled, “What’s happening? Why is this happening?” and looked to Harry over his mother’s shoulder.

“It’s a combination party for you,” Harry said, Anne smiling excitedly with her arm around Harry’s lower back. Harry ticked items on his fingers. “Congratulations on your new position.” The crowd all cheered loudly. Harry laughed and tapped another finger. “Congratulations on your appendix being removed.”

“Smell ya later, appendix!” Niall cried over the cheers.

Harry drawled, “And...” 

Before Louis could reply to Harry’s list, the lights in the flat were turned off. Something that glowed came closer, Ed strumming one arpeggiated chord on his guitar.

The crowd started to sing, “Happy birthday, to you!” 

Louis’ crinkled eyes darted up to Harry’s face, Harry standing behind the large sheet cake to help Liam and Zayn hold it. Candlelight danced over their faces, Harry joining as they all sang, “Happy birthday to you!”

The cake was a white rectangle with tiny, pale blue dots lining the perimeter. The decorations were simple, but the star of the cake was Harry’s masterful penmanship in multiple fonts proclaiming, ‘Congratulations, Louis!’ and ‘Happy birthday, Louis!’. The phrases were written in different shades of blue with simple outlines of shapes thrown in; a balloon, an iPad, an appendix. The text and sketches fit like a well spaced mosaic of icing. The biggest text was reserved for the centre of the cake and was written in Avenir.

“Happy birthday, dear Louis. Happy birthday to you!”

The group clapped and cheered, Louis’ throat bobbing to swallow. He smiled and leaned forward, blowing out all the candles at once. More cheers followed, Liam and Zayn taking the cake to the table. Louis wrapped his hand around Harry’s forearm and brought their eyes together.

“Cake before brunch?” 

Harry smiled shyly. 

“I thought we could switch up the order a bit. I wanted you to see your cake.” He linked their fingers, pink dappling his cheeks. Softer, Harry asked, “Do you like it?”

“Like it? I love it.” Louis’ throat cracked, Harry’s smile widening. Louis wrapped one arm around the small of Harry’s back. He whispered, “I love it, Harry. I love you.”

Harry dipped down and sealed their lips together, the heel of his hand moulding to Louis’ jawline. 

“I’m so happy,” he said, exhaling a big breath through his lips and laughing.

“You’re so happy? I’m so happy,” Louis laughed. He shook his head. “I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

There was a commotion from the kitchen, but neither looked away from each other. Harry kissed him again, Louis’ eyes fluttering shut. Another crash and a pained, “Oh God,” pinged their ears. Harry laughed and pulled back.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, squeezing Louis’ shoulders. “I just need to check on our sous chefs.”

While Harry worked in the kitchen, Louis sipped on a fizzy cranberry cocktail and made the rounds. He greeted guests...

 

“Glad to see you got over your sudden cold, L,” Simon said with a knowing smile, Simone snorting beside him while rubbing her rounded belly.

 

...and tried his best to make sure everyone had a drink or snack, though Harry often intercepted to insist he was to do no work at all that day. When he was shooed away from the bar a third time, Louis checked in with his crew.

 

“Happy birthday, man,” Zayn said, hugging Louis with both arms. “Congrats on the job, I suppose, but I see your poncy mug at work every day. I don’t feel the need to congratulate you yet again for that.”

Louis chuckled.

“Ha ha. I can’t believe you voluntarily participated in another surprise party after Harry’s party. You almost sprained your jaw from pouting so much.”

“Well, instead of your relentless email chain, Harry had a group meeting in secret.” He sipped his mimosa with his pinky poised. “Easy peasy.”

“A group meeting? In secret? What did he do, rent a conference room at a hotel and hand out portfolios?”

“Nope,” Liam said, sliding his arm around Zayn’s waist. “We met at Niall’s under the cloak of night. Back when you were sleeping all the time because of your appendix.”

Zayn snorted as he took another drink. His eyes crinkled warmly at Liam.

“Under the cloak of night,” he murmured, shaking his head. “You’re too cute, babe.”

He leaned in with his lips pursed and Liam plucked his drink out of his hand, downing the remaining orange juice. Zayn’s mouth popped open in shock, his thumb digging into Liam’s hip.

“Snacks were provided,” Liam giggled, licking his tangy lips. He held up the empty glass. “And alcohol. Lots of beer. We basically got drunk and divided up who would do what, then fell asleep like a pile of toddlers because we ate too much. It was a good time! Though, I guess toddlers don’t drink beer.”

 

He hugged everyone he could get to, from Harry’s family to his own family.

 

“Nan!” he cried. He wrapped his arms around the rose scented little bundle of love wearing a sparkly gold jogger set. “You look so beautiful.”

“Oh, love, you’re sweet.” She stepped back, flared her delicate fingers near her shoulder, and quirked her hip. “This **is** a new ensemble.” She pointed her toe as best she could to reveal matching gold slippers. “These, too.” 

“I love it.” Louis hugged her again, both swaying gently. “You look like a mermaid or a genie.” His grandmother’s husky, high laughs vibrated against his neck. Louis smoothed his hand down the back of her pure white bob. “I can’t believe you made the trip in. I’m so happy to see you. Thank you for coming, my love.”

“Thank **you** , darling. And thank Harry.” She stood on tiptoe, whispering, “What a handsome young lover you have. What a body on him!”

Louis laughed, scandalized, and steered her away from the twins.

 

Once everyone had been greeted, Louis made his way into the kitchen. Niall, Liam and Zayn hurried around with pots and pans while Harry gave quiet directions and pointed from the kitchen to the table. Louis stepped up to the stove.

“I’ll help. How can I help?”

“You’re the guest of honour,” Harry said, darting in front of him. He spun him around and propelled him towards Jay, who was chatting with Anne and cradling a mimosa. “Go mingle more.”

“I can help cook in my own kitchen, silly.” Louis slid around Harry and went to Liam. “What’s up, Li? What can I do to help?”

“Go have a drink,” Liam chuckled.

“C’mon, I can help!”

“Um,” Liam’s eyes glanced around the kitchen, “this.” He picked up a pot of hollandaise and smiled brightly. “This is all you are allowed to do. Please dump it in that gravy boat thing. That’s it.”

Louis accepted the pot. 

“Okay.” He dumped the creamy, golden sauce into the white ceramic gravy boat. “I’ll wash the pot, while I’m at it.”

“You’re not washing anything,” Harry’s voice called over the chattering crowd. He appeared beside Louis and took the empty pot out of his hand, giving him an innocent smile. “Please, go have a drink. Relax. Hug your Nan again. I want to take a picture of you two together.”

Louis smiled and kissed the centre of Harry’s chest through his jumper. He gripped the bottom hem and held him in place, lifting himself to the balls of his feet.

“Just to make sure I’m clear on this,” Louis whispered in Harry’s ear, “you edged me for almost two hours knowing full well that I’d have to face our family, friends, and employers immediately after?”

Harry thought on it for a moment, his smile growing as he nodded.

“Yup.”

Louis’ gaze narrowed.

“You’ve got a massive set of balls on you, don’t you?”

A flirtatious spark lit Harry’s eyes, his lips quirked at the corners.

“You would know.”

“God, I love you. Oh, wait, did you…” Louis’ mouth popped open. “Did you make us take so long in the shower because of this?”

Flirtatious turned to bashful, Harry chuckling quietly. He ran his hand through the back of his hair.

“There was a tiny delay with getting your family here so I improvised. Your nan insisted on stopping the car at a farmstand to see about buying flowers as a housewarming gift, but ended up wandering into a field to actually pick flowers. The girls had to fetch her and then she had to go to toilet and,” Harry swayed his hand in the air, “it was a minor setback. No worries.”

“You’re too much,” Louis said on a laugh. His laughter was sucked into his mouth. “Please tell me that means my Nan didn’t hear me screaming your name?”

“It was only us three here when that was going on,” Zayn said in passing, holding a tray of blueberry muffins. 

Liam went after him with a basket of scones, adding, “Just another day in the neighbourhood.”

They made their way to the table. Harry had prepped most of the food ahead of time and only needed the guys to put things in the oven. He could handle the other items that needed to be made on the spot. 

There was a duo of stratas in the centre of the table. One strata was made with spinach, prosciutto and mozzarella, the other with avocado, tomato and cheddar. Plates of crispy bacon and sausage were passed around, as were platters of standard scrambled eggs and pancakes. Eggs Benedict rested in a chafing dish beside the table, along with the boat of homemade hollandaise sauce. Harry’s pastries were featured, of course, plus Louis’ namesake collection. There were even colourful butterfly cupcakes on a tray beside Louis’ birthday cake.

“Can we eat them with breakfast?” Phoebe asked Harry, bouncing in her seat. “Please? I’ve never eaten a cupcake at breakfast!”

Harry looked to Jay, who smirked and nodded, her eyelid flickering.

“Sure you can,” he said in a gentle, but excited, voice. He offered her the tray. “Have whatever you like. When you come visit us here, we can always have cake at breakfast.”

The twins squealed and attacked the cupcake tray. Lottie and Fiz smiled at Louis from across the table, Fiz taking a photo of the twins face down in cupcakes.

“You’re a terrible influence,” Louis chuckled, spooning fruit salad onto his plate. He passed the fruit to Liam. “What, no alien toast?”

Harry sliced himself a portion of strata.

“I snuck avocado into this bad boy,” Harry said, plopping it on his plate. He smirked at Louis. “I’ve met my sneaky avocado quota for the day.”

“Thank God. I wondered if, when we cut into the cake, the icing inside would be green.”

Harry laughed and cut into the mozzarella strata. He placed a portion on Louis’ plate. Utensils clicked against plates; glasses pinged in cheers; chatter buzzed beneath the white tent.

“Hey,” Harry said out of the corner of his mouth. He swallowed a mouthful of pancakes. “I wanted to ask you, do you know what avenir means?”

Louis cut into his Eggs Benedict.

“The font I like?”

“No, the word.” Harry passed a bowl of plain yogurt to Gemma. “The meaning of the word.”

“No. What is it?”

Harry smiled and slid his hand to Louis’ inner thigh.

“Future. Avenir means future.”

Louis’ smile broke into a sudden laugh. He rested his hand on top of Harry’s, his forehead tipping forward.

“Are you serious?”

“I am.” Harry’s eyes narrowed, his gaze simmering with amusement. “Next time,” he whispered, leaning closer, “I’ll have to edge you in French. Only French. Clearly, you aren’t practicing your Duolingo enough.”

“Je suis très,” Louis held that word, his nose wrinkling, “excited?” Harry laughed loudly, his head throat back. “Excited. Excited.” Louis’ eyes widened. “Excité! I’m excité-ed for our avenir.”

Harry’s arm settled over his shoulders as their lips brushed, Louis squeezing his thigh under the table. All around them their family and friends were chatting and laughing, plates teeming with delicious food bouncing from person to person. Sunlight beaming through their terrace doors gave the tented room a warm, dewy glow.

“Together,” Harry said softly.

Louis nodded and leaned in, pressing his lips to Harry’s collarbone.

“Together.” Louis let the word linger for a moment. “Now,” he prodded Harry’s side, “if you wouldn’t mind, I think I need the bacon, which, thanks to Duolingo, I know is simply bacon en français.”

. . .

Harry stretched the balls of his feet to the end of the bed, his hands reaching up towards the headboard and his nose pressing into his pillow. His muscles burned pleasantly in his straight position. The bottoms of his feet and his shins were still a touch tender from standing so much the day before, but all of that was worth it to surprise Louis and celebrate him for the entire day. It would always be worth it.

He slid his left foot across the bed until he felt Louis’ calf. Soft hair along his sole sent tingles up his leg. Warmth and weight spread over his back, Louis shifting to lay flat on him. Louis’ arms curled around his chest, enveloping him in a bear hug and settling his nose behind Harry’s ear.

“Morning, love,” Louis murmured.

“Morning.” Harry rubbed his cheek against his pillow and held Louis’ forearm. “Good, good morning.”

Louis’ quiet chuckle sent vibrations through his body. He rubbed Harry’s stomach.

“After yesterday, this is like a good, good morning times ten thousand.” Louis pressed his lips to Harry’s sweet smelling neck. “I can’t thank you enough.” He kissed him again, lacing their fingers together on the centre of Harry’s chest. “Thank you. Thank you.” His lips lingered for a beat on the point of Harry’s jawline. “Thank you.” He kissed his cheek. “Thank you so much.”

Harry bounced as he smiled. 

“You don’t have to thank me. I wanted to do it.”

“But I will thank you. Wait until our families are gone.” Louis yawned and squeezed Harry ever so gently. “Edge City. Fuckfest Eleventy-billion.”

Harry chuckled, able to feel himself teetering on the cusp of sleep. He smiled with his eyes shut, Louis puffing even breaths against his neck. Harry’s mouth barely moved to ask, “Wanna go to yoga?”

“No.” 

They both chuckled, Louis kissing to the base of Harry’s neck. 

“Maybe later,” Louis offered, tightening his hold on Harry. “After food. And more sleep. And food again.” Harry hummed and rubbed their feet together. Louis trailed his thumb between Harry’s pecs. “What do you want to do today?”

“This. All day. Every day.” Louis’ lips curved into a smile against his shoulder, Harry smiling wider as he sighed, “I suppose we should probably say hello to our families, too.”

“True.”

“And do something useful like real adults do.”

“This is useful.”

“Mmm.”

 

“I think we need to go shopping.”

“For what?”

“We’re out of lube.”

Harry’s eyes shot open.

“What?”

“We’re out of lube,” Louis said, rubbing Harry’s stomach. “Getting more can be our adult, responsible task today.”

Harry half looked over his shoulder, confusion crumpling his face.

“How?”

“Well, Harry, when two boys like each other very much--”

“I know that,” Harry laughed, beginning the task of rolling onto his back. The blankets bunched around his lower belly. “I just meant…” 

He landed on his back and was greeted by Louis’ sleepy eyes. Harry ran his fingers through the feathery front of Louis’ fringe 

“Hi,” he whispered. He stroked the baby soft hair above his temple. “Christ, you’re lovely in the morning.”

Louis rested his chin on Harry’s nipple. Sunlight gifted his eyes with an even paler blue glow than usual, tiny bits of dust floating around them and sparkling in the air. 

“Thanks, beautiful,” Louis said, smiling crookedly. He tipped his face down and pressed his lips to Harry’s nipple. “Actually,” he kissed the centre of his chest, “have you got some lube in your drawer? I only looked in mine. I didn’t think to look in yours. A man’s bedside table is sacred business.”

Harry gave him a sleepy smile and reached sideways. Louis’ face slipped off his chest and planted on the side of his ribs, resulting in Louis blowing a raspberry on Harry’s lower back. Harry laughed and kicked at his feet.

“I don’t think I have any,” Harry said, ghosting his fingers over the cover of a puzzle book. He shut the drawer and bounced his bum backwards. “You’re sure you don’t have any?”

He rolled over, sliding his arm around the small of Louis’ back and snuggling up to him. Harry’s body froze. His eyes fell to the sliver of bed between them. 

“What…”

Harry’s mouth popped open, then shut, his heart rate accelerating so suddenly that he could hear his heartbeat in his ears. His eyes darted from Louis’ smile, close-lipped but shimmering with palpable warmth, to the small black velvet box resting in his trembling hands. A tiny red bow was perched on top of the box.

“Louis, what’s...” Harry swallowed and nudged his chin forward, his eyes scurrying from the box to Louis’ face. He couldn’t control the fluttery laugh in his voice to ask, “What’s that?”

“It’s not lube,” Louis said, the corners of his mouth twitching higher. His voice went soft, a matching shuddered laugh shaking in the background of his voice. “And it’s not business cards.” 

He nuzzled closer, Harry’s hands trembling on the small of his back. 

“You gonna open it? Or you want me to open it?”

“You can open it,” Harry said, nodding quickly.

Louis huffed a silent laugh and plucked the bow off. He pressed it on the crown of Harry’s head. Harry’s chest heaved visibly as they both exhaled breaths against each other’s faces. Louis pecked Harry’s lips and leaned back, lifting his hand up to chest level. He cracked the box open.

Harry’s eyes went round. He stared at the contents of the box for a long moment, then gasped, “Lou,” ever so quietly, as if he was afraid to make noise. 

Louis took the [platinum band](http://www.greenwichjewelers.com/shop/category/wedding-bands/mens/products/artcarved-mens-wedding-band-with-ridged-details) out of its velvet box. The surface of the flat, large ring was brushed metal, but the edges were smooth and shiny, a ribbed pattern carved into the very top and bottom of the edge. 

By lifting it up, Louis revealed that the inside of the ring was not only pure platinum. A custom, thin red stripe ran through the centre of the underside of the ring. 

“Louis,” Harry choked out on a laugh, keeping his voice quiet. He wrapped his hand on top of Louis’ hand. “The ribbon. Oh my--” He rubbed his face against his pillow. “Oh my God.”

Louis kissed Harry’s right cheek, then his left. He kissed beneath his eyelids to gather as many tears as he could, his own uneven breaths puffing cool air over Harry’s wet skin. Harry tilted his head and pressed quick, soft kisses to Louis’ lips. Both of his hands cradled Louis’ neck, his long fingers brushing his jawline, Louis’ body pressed to his from toes to forehead. 

Heat transferred between their bodies, Louis exhaling a smooth breath before he held the ring out towards Harry. He held Harry’s left hand and smiled, his eyes scrunching shut as he took another breath. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but Harry smiled and gently placed his index finger over his lips.

“Wait right here,” Harry whispered, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Right.” He bopped Louis’ nose. “Here.”

A rapid mixture of confusion, amusement, and panic flickered over Louis face, but he nodded.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Harry grinned and rolled onto his side with his back to Louis, the duvet tight around his bum. Louis heard the sound of something light sliding around inside his bedside table, Harry’s foot leisurely brushing over his ankle as he searched.

“Did you remember you have lube or something?”

“Nope.”

Harry turned over. Both arms hugged a book hugged to his chest. Confused, but smiling, Louis reached out and thumbed beneath Harry’s eyelids, Harry sniffling a laugh. Harry gripped both sides of the book and placed it on the bed between them.

**1000 Fantastically Fun Food Puzzles for Kids! (Ages 5-9)**

Louis’ barked laugh was not nearly as quiet as Harry’s was. His hand flew to his mouth as soon as the reveal was complete, another involuntary shudder of laughter shaking his stomach. His fingers trembled around Harry’s ring, his vision going blurry.

Harry sucked a kiss to Louis’ lips, kissing to his jawline and nuzzling their cheeks together. He held Louis’ free hand and placed it on the corner of the puzzle book.

Louis opened the cover and revealed a page that had been coloured in already. He glanced at Harry with his brows furrowed and Harry nodded. Louis flipped one page in, two pages in, three pages in. All he found were completed puzzles and colouring pages. 

He was poised to comment about how he was pretty sure Harry had spelled the word colander incorrectly in a word puzzle when he turned the next page. The thin paper page fluttered to the other side of the book, both men silent.

“Harry,” he laughed, tears misting his eyes. He could hear Harry holding back laughter, the choked off sounds combined with the quiet plop of tears sliding from Harry’s eyes to land on Louis’ wrist. “Oh God, I love you.” Louis lifted his face and kissed Harry’s right cheek. “I love you so much.” He kissed his left cheek, Harry tilting his head to sear their lips. “I love you.”

The puzzle book had been hollowed out in the centre. The hollow space was just enough for a small black box to be hidden inside. The chosen page was a crossword puzzle all about cakes and cookies. Sketches of baked goods around the border were neatly coloured in with crayon. A hand drawn wedding cake was snuck in on the bottom right corner of the border. Louis recognized Harry’s scrawl for each letter that spelled out: 

**LOUIS--I LOVE YOU--WILL YOU MARRY ME?**

Louis stared at the book, his head twitching side to side. A long moment passed where neither spoke. Finally, he gasped out a cackled, frantic laugh.

“What?” Harry laughed.

“I can’t believe you dug a hole in a children’s puzzle book,” Louis said, barely able to get the words out as he laughed harder. Harry joined him in hysterical laughter, his laughs higher while Louis’ laughter was a rapid-fire barrage of giggles. “I can’t believe you found the book that I--The exact book that I saw in the store a million years ago!”

Harry giggled, “Why is that so funny? I planned ahead.”

“It’s the image of you sitting around and whittling a colouring book that’s killing me.” Louis spread out on top of Harry, cupping his face with both hands and firmly kissing his lips. “How did you even know my ring size? I don’t wear rings.”

“How do you know it’s a ring?”

Louis’ laughter was sucked into his throat, his eyes widening. The room went silent.

Quickly, Harry said, “No, no, no, I’m kidding. It’s definitely a ring.” Louis exhaled and fell onto his back, letting out exhausted, breathy giggles with his hands over his face and Harry’s ring looped around his pointer finger. “Oh, Lou,” Harry laughed, kissing both of his nipples, “you looked terrified. I’m just teasing. Open it, love. I want to put it on you.” 

Louis managed to quiet his giggles, but his stomach shook without his control. His hands trembled as he pried the creaky lid open. 

The [ring waiting for him inside](http://www.greenwichjewelers.com/shop/category/wedding-bands/mens/products/artcarved-comfort-fit-mens-platinum-wedding-band-4-mm) made his eyes sting and his smile soften, the inside of his nose tingling. 

Quietly, he murmured, “Harry,” and rounded his palm over the top of Harry’s hand. He could feel tears drip off his bottom eyelids, but said even softer, “Harry. It’s so perfect. Fuck, it’s--It’s beautiful.”

Harry lifted the ring out of the velvet box. Sunlight bounced off of the polished, smooth, silver surface. The ring was a narrower band than the one Louis chose for Harry and more classic in design.

“Before I even went to New York, I took string from the bakery,” he poised the ring at Louis’ left ring finger, “and I wrapped it around your finger when you were asleep. Then I took the string to a very nice jeweler, who helped me learn what size you are.”

Before slipping the ring onto Louis’ finger, he tilted his hand. Sunlight revealed a shimmering message engraved inside the ring.

Notre amour. Notre aventure. Notre étincelle. Pour toujours.

Louis blubbered out a short laugh, his hands shaking and his palms sweating. 

“I know all of those words,” he whimpered on a laugh, Harry laughing and kissing his smiling lips. Louis sniffled and dabbed the back of his hand beneath his right eye. “Love. Adventure. Crackle. Always.”

Harry nodded.

“And notre?”

“Our,” Louis said, his voice breaking.

“Very good,” Harry laughed gently, Louis rolling his eyes but smiling. “When I saw the ring in a shop in Manhattan, I knew it was the one.” He shifted the ring to rest on Louis’ fingertip. “I knew it was meant for you.”

“That’s how I felt when I saw yours,” Louis said, sucking in a breath. “I just knew.”

Harry slid the ring down Louis’ finger until it reached the crux of his hand. He lifted his hand and pressed his lips to the ring, his eyes clenching shut. Louis felt Harry’s nostrils shudder out a jerky, hot burst of air as he kissed the ring again, Harry resting the side of his nose against Louis’ knuckles.

Without speaking, Louis gripped Harry’s left hand and brought it between them. He slid the band down Harry’s ring finger. He spun it once with his thumb, leaning down to kiss his ring in the same way Harry had done to him. He smiled wider upon hearing Harry make a watery, gasped sound. He kissed his ring

The silence in the room was such a comforting force of nothing, as if they were insulated by invisible cotton clouds surrounding the bed.

“Since I don’t have a written request on a crossword puzzle,” Louis whispered. His nose nudged Harry’s knuckles, his head turning to smile up at him. “Harry. I love you.” Louis swallowed and laid on his side. His eyes never left Harry’s face; his hands never loosened their hold. “Will you marry me?”

“Y-Yeah,” Harry gasped out, nodding with tear-darkened eyelashes. “I mean, yes. Yes.” His eyes grew larger. “Yes!” His lips started to wobble and he pressed his face into Louis’ neck. “Yes,” he nodded firmer, “I would love to marry you forever.” 

“You big mush,” Louis laughed, Harry’s hand moulding to his cheek as he murmured unintelligible noises into his neck. “I--”

Harry wrapped him in his arms and rolled him onto his back before he could finish. Their lips slotted together as they held each other close. Both exhaled through their noses and tilted their heads, searing their lips tighter. 

Fingers dug into heated skin. Tears dripped down to give their kisses a salty tinge. The sheets bunched around them as they kissed and ground together. 

Harry laughed into a kiss and kissed the corner of Louis’ lips, Louis kissing all over his face. They both brought their hands between their chests and stared at their rings.

“You have handsome hands,” Louis said quietly, brushing the pads of his fingers over Harry’s ring. “Looks good on you.”

Harry smiled and rested his face beside Louis’, his free hand rubbing up Louis’ ribs. 

“You do, too. I’ve never seen you wear a ring.”

“I’m never gonna wear one besides this one, so get used to it.”

Harry laughed goofily as he grinned, Louis giggling and joining their lips. Their front door opened and closed in the distance. Louis peered at their closed bedroom door.

“Is that the guys?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, I gave our mums extra keys for the weekend. I said they could come over whenever.”

“Are you trying to have my entire family hear me orgasm?”

“Not actively.”

Louis laughed and gently tugged Harry’s hair.

“Let’s go see how long it takes for them to notice the rings.”

They washed their faces and dressed in sweats and t-shirts, Louis barefoot and Harry wearing mismatched striped socks. 

“You ready?” Louis asked at the closed bedroom door.

Harry joined their hands and nodded.

“So ready. I bet it’ll be,” he clicked air between his teeth, “three minutes.”

“I bet two minutes.”

“Ooh, a risk taker.” Harry wiggled his brows. “I like it.”

“You know I love an adventure.”

“Very true,” Harry chuckled, Louis squeezing his hand. “Alright, then. Here we go.”

Harry opened the door, both stepping out. They were greeted by a crowd of people all talking at once. 

“Good morning,” Louis said over them, lifting his hand to wave at their families.

“Morning, everyone,” Harry said. 

“Do you two hold hands every time you get out of bed?” Lottie asked, sprawled on the sofa and flicking through the television. She wrinkled her nose at them, smirking. “You two are seriously gross.”

“Seriously,” Gemma said, her legs tangled with Lottie’s on the sofa.

“Good morning, dear sister.” Louis bent over and primly kissed Lottie’s forehead, Lottie laughing and shoving his face away. He guided Harry sideways to peck his grandmother’s cheek. “And my sweet Nan.”

“Did anyone heat up the strata yet?” Harry asked, bending to kiss his sister’s high bun. “I think we’ve got both--”

There was a metallic crash in the kitchen.

“Oh my God!” Anne exclaimed, her hands on her cheeks, a frying pan in front of her feet. 

She gripped Jay’s forearm and pulled her into her body, one hand pointing straight as an arrow at Harry and Louis. Jay’s eyes bulged, both mothers walking with synced steps into the living room. She and Anne made matching shocked noises, both mothers pointing at Harry and Louis’ hands.

Liam followed the line of their pointing and dropped a cookie sheet. He reached to the right and tugged on Zayn’s shirt, Zayn banging his head on the open refrigerator door. Niall exited the bathroom beside the kitchen, drying his hands on his jeans.

“What’s everyone--” He glanced at Harry, then Louis. His wide eyes fell to their hands. “Oh my dads, are you married!?”

“Dads?” Fizzy asked.

Louis and Harry smiled and glanced at each other before lifting their left hands with their knuckles facing the crowd. Their families all whooped and cheered as they surged forward, enveloping the couple.

“Right, so, we’re engaged, as of now,” Louis laughed easily. He felt Harry’s warmth next to him, a large palm resting on the small of his back. “As of around ten minutes ago, so,” he waggled his pointer finger at his mother, “no jabs about us being too private.”

“You’re the first people to find out,” Harry said, starting to laugh with Gemma’s face pressed into his neck. He squeezed Louis to his side and grinned. “And we wouldn’t have it any other way.”


	25. Chapter 25 (Epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end! The happily ever after for Louis and Harry. Even more brunch, more celebrations (the party just never ends!) and more surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: This is a work of complete fiction. Never happened, not real, no offense is intended. Absolutely does not reflect upon the real life people mentioned in this fictional story. No profit is being made from this work. The story, and its characters, belong to me. Please do not repost anywhere and do not print/distribute. Please do not translate my story, as I am not authorizing translations at this time. This is all meant to be just silly fun. For serious publishing inquiries, please comment with contact information.**
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> Thank you again to Jess and all the readers!! <3

“We’ve got twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes?” Zayn tugged a pinch of hair away from his scalp and let it flutter over his forehead. Pomade felt smooth under the pads of his fingers, the smell of coconut filling the steamy en suite. “I thought the invitation said noon? It’s not even ten.”

“The requested arrival time is noon, but I want to be early and we need to swing by Ed’s to pick him up before we meet up with my parents.”

Zayn sighed and slid his hand back through his high pompadour. 

“But we know where we’re going.”

“So?”

“So,” he smoothed the sides of his temples, “it’s not like we’ll get lost on the way. We’ve been to Kitchen Corp before.” 

The shower stopped hissing and the glass door opened. Zayn’s eyes strayed from his own reflection to watch Liam reach for a clean white towel. Liam’s wet hair was matted down to his head, water glistening on the fuzzy centre of his chest. 

Liam smirked while rubbing a towel over his stomach.

“I see you perving.” 

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” Zayn said, his voice raspier than usual. “I think you dropped something.” He jutted his chin forward. “Why don’t you check? I think it’s next to the shower.”

Warm brown eyes crinkled at him in the mirror, Zayn sharing a small smile with Liam’s reflection. Liam came up behind him and rested his face in the crook of his neck. He softly kissed beneath his ear, earning a noseful of coconut.

“Are you trying to trick me into bending over for you?”

“My tricks usually work.”

Liam laughed, “Yeah, right.” He gently spanked Zayn’s bum in his tight black suit trousers. “It’s your own fault for insisting on showering first. Should have just showered with me, as suggested.”

“I told you. This hair takes me forever. It needs my undivided attention and at least a fifteen minute head start on you.”

Liam nuzzled his nose against his neck.

“Very true. Very worth it, though,” Liam said as he stepped away and lifted his towel, ruffling it through his hair. “Kind of rare for them to ask guests to dress up. Usually their gatherings are so casual.”

“Didn’t they say they’re going to take photos for promo or something?”

“Did they?”

“Yeah, since it’s a new restaurant with more to offer on the menu than just sweets and nibbles at Étincelle. I think that’s why they’re having us dress up.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Liam said as he flipped his hair back. “Étincelle is only a tiny cafe, after all. Not much space to do promo there.”

“And ice cream line.”

“Of course. How could I forget the Étincelle line of ice cream? The home of ’Hot Legs’ Cinnamon Ice Cream?”

“You’re a thoughtless beast, that’s how.”

Liam snorted and dabbed his chest with his towel.

“It’s kind of nuts that Harry and Alex connected so well with that Joe guy after just one Top Chef challenge.” 

Zayn yawned, “Who?”

“Joe. The rich, restaurateur guy. I think that’s his name.” Liam lifted his arm and turned away from Zayn to spray deodorant. “They swung this whole Kitchen Corp partnership thing so quickly.” 

Liam looped his towel around his waist and walked into the bedroom. Zayn followed behind him.

“Wasn’t really that quick, though,” Zayn said. He sat on the end of their messy bed, watching Liam go from the closet to their chest of drawers. “It sounds like they sort of had an idea of what they’d want to do when the time came, then did Top Chef: All Stars last year and had more time together to plan. Harry’s only doing the desserts for Kitchen Corp. Maybe that’s why it seemed fast?”

“Dunno. Maybe. My knowledge of food ends when it enters my mouth.” Liam shrugged on a white button up shirt. “Are you certain Lou said we don’t have to bring anything? That seems bizarre. Not even a bottle of wine?”

Zayn chuckled and pulled Liam’s towel off, leaving Liam in only his unbuttoned shirt.

“It’s a new restaurant, love,” Zayn said, pulling him closer by the hem of his shirt. “I think they’ll have bottles of wine available whether we bring one or not.”

Liam said, “I know, I know,” and stepped back. He muttered to himself, “Not feeling the white,” and let his shirt fall off his arms. He went into the en suite, Zayn trailing behind. “It seems weird that they specified no gifts in the invite. Who specifies no gifts on an invite to a menu test session?”

“Maybe they didn’t want people feeling obligated to bring things. You know how they are about entertaining. Want to make sure everyone’s taken care of and stress free.”

“Very true.”

“Did you charge your phone?”

Liam’s smile fell while Zayn’s smile grew, both staring at each other in the mirror. Liam started to laugh and stepped in front of him.

“You are obsessed with the status of my phone’s battery, I swear.”

Zayn bumped him out of the way with his hip.

“We’ve lived together how long, and are in the possession of how many chargers, yet you seem unable to grasp the concept of a charged phone.” Zayn fixed the strand of hair laying over his forehead. “What if there was an emergency?”

Liam’s elbow dug into Zayn’s side, his other arm reaching out for his hair brush.

“A brunch emergency?”

“What if there was a celebrity at the brunch?”

“In the olden days, people didn’t have cell phones and they functioned just fine.”

“The olden days,” Zayn repeated, his lips twitching.

“Yes, the olden days.”

“And what days were those?”

“I’m going to mess up your hair.”

Zayn’s arms shot up to block Liam’s wiggling fingers.

“No, fuck no, you’re not!”

“Let’s get back in the shower.”

“No,” Zayn giggled, Liam’s hold tight around his middle. His feet flailed in the air. “We’ll be late!”

. . .

Niall crawled forward on his hands and knees, sticking his head under whatever furniture he passed. He called out, “Hey, Mini?”

A can of hairspray hissed in the distance.

“Yeah?”

“Have you seen my phone?” He pulled a Lego spaceship out from under the sofa, cradling it in his hands and happily whispering, “There you are!”

“I’ve got it in here.”

Niall’s head popped up with a wide smile. Heels clicked on the hardwood floor, Niall crawling on his knees with fast, tiny motions of his legs to get closer to the sound.

“You left it on the sink, lovie,” Damini said, wiggling the phone towards him. Her eyes landed on the spaceship. “Oh, sweet! You found it! Was it--” She started to laugh, Niall pressing his face to her stomach. She ran her purple painted fingernails through his hair. “Was it under the sofa?”

“It was.” He kissed both sides of her hips, letting his lips press extra long on the centre of her stomach. “You feeling better?”

She stroked the back of his neck.

“Much. Thank you for asking.”

Niall let out a little sigh.

“I still didn’t find the Lego ship, but I have high hopes it’s around here somewhere.”

“I’m sure,” she said, amusement shaking in her voice. “That’ll teach us to put the Legos away before we get drunk and shag on the living room floor.”

Niall stood up, pinching the sides of Damini’s flowing, colorful maxi dress. She did a little twirl, Niall hugging her to his body once they faced each other. He pressed his face to the arch of her neck.

“But we had to get drunk when your fancy pants company had an open bar at that event thing. We just had to.”

“Oh, absolutely,” she said seriously. 

“And drunk Legos with you is, like, top ten favourite activities we do.” He took a deep breath. “Mmm, you smell like sugar cookies.”

She laughed.

“I love that you rank drunk Legos over sex on the floor.”

“Well,” Niall said, smiling bashfully with rosy cheeks, “that’s, like, within the top five on the list. Sex, I mean.”

“What’s number one?”

“Cuuuuddles,” Niall said, dragging out the word and fluctuating his pitch. 

She shook her head as she laughed, cradling his face with both hands. Their lips quickly pecked, Niall kissing her nose and chin as she continued to giggle. He took his phone from her and slipped it into his back pocket. His arms wrapped around her, Damini resting her palms on the sides of his neck. 

Niall whispered, “Thank you, love,” and pressed his nose into her hair. She had left it loose and wavy, parted down the middle with two small front braids on either side fastened to the back of her head. “You are the most beautiful woman in the world.” He squeezed her tighter and lowered his voice. “In the universe.”

She rubbed the small of his back.

“You’re sweet. Scoring all those space films has given you planet-brain.”

“You are the shiniest, prettiest, most twinkliest star in the galaxy.”

“Nah. You’re the sparkly star, love.”

“We are sparkly stars together.” Niall tugged on a thin gold chain looped around her neck, lifting the bottom of the chain from beneath the front of her dress. His smile went mischievous, his shoulders swaying side to side. “Speaking of sparkly stars.”

She laughed quietly and leaned back. [A small, round ruby stone glimmered on a woven rose gold band. ](http://www.loveandpromisejewelers.com/index.php/designers-10/rosados-box-cassidy-rose-gold-round-ruby-celtic-knot-engagement-ring.html) The ring nestled on the centre of her colourful dress at the top of her stomach. She slipped the ring on her finger with the chain still attached, Niall easing it over her knuckle. Damini rubbed the top of Niall’s hand.

“I know my dad knows already, but,” she bit her glossy bottom lip, “let’s wait until after the party to tell Ravi.”

“Agreed.” Niall plucked the ring off her finger. “Haz said the food is going to be amazing,” he gently dropped it down the front of her dress, “and I’d rather not be slaughtered before the main course is served.”

. . .

Louis rolled onto his right side and curled up, nudging his nose forward. The bed bounced below him for a moment, heat coming closer and the white duvet lightly brushing his shoulder. Warm air puffed over Louis’ nose, a sleepy sigh ruffling his hair. He licked his lips and reached forward until he met baby-soft skin.

The harder he pressed his nose forward, the more his brain registered that the person in front of him was tender yet firm; slender yet strong; sweetly scented yet with a hint of masculine sweat. The smell of butter swirled into Louis’ nostrils as he snuggled closer.

Harry pressed his face into the space between Louis’ face and pillow. His nose nudged lower until he rested it in Louis’ neck. His back rose and fell with a long sigh, Louis’ arms wrapping around him. Harry’s hand smoothed up Louis’ bare chest, his thumb tapping Louis’ nipple while gently dragging his fingertips over his upper ribs.

“Good morning, love,” Harry’s voice rumbled.

Louis whispered, “Morning, baby.”

Harry’s face nuzzled deeper into Louis’ neck. His fingers ghosted up his neck to stroke his cheek.

“You gonna shave today?”

Louis pressed the back of his head into his pillow, his eyes still shut.

“Mmhmm.”

After a short pause, a quiet, “Boo,” was whined from under the covers.

Louis chuckled, his chest bumping under Harry’s weight.

“For the photos,” Louis said, his lips barely moving. “Besides, your thighs need a break.”

Deeper, Harry droned, “Boo.”

The pads of Harry’s fingers applied a hint more pressure to his upper ribs and Louis smiled with his eyes shut, one tiny giggle escaping. He picked up Harry’s hand and brought it to his lips. He pressed kisses around every inch of the platinum band, even going so far as to turn Harry’s hand to kiss the underside of his finger.

Soft chuckles brushed Louis’ face for each kiss. Louis held Harry’s hand in both of his hands, kissing his ring one more time. He rested his lips against Harry’s knuckles. Harry’s grin was bright enough to illuminate a new planet, his foot rubbing up and down Louis’ fuzzy shin.

Louis’ eyes slowly swayed open, excitement shining from his hazy stare, his smile soft. Harry lifted Louis’ hand and repeated the circle of kisses, kissing around the platinum band on his ring finger. Louis exhaled a quiet, breathy laugh, running his right fingers through the back of Harry’s hair. Their feet shifted to tangle together, Louis’ hand moulding to Harry’s jawline.

Pale green eyes blinked once, twice, three times, Harry’s smile growing with each blink. Harry brushed his lips over the reddish beard dappling Louis’ jawline, Louis stretching his head to the side as Harry planted slow, deliberate kisses along his neck. 

Harry pushed himself high enough to kiss Louis’ bottom lip. He managed to kiss half of his bottom lip, his mouth exhaling a confused sound as his lips slid down his chin. Louis giggled and pulled Harry on top. Their lips joined firmer, Louis’ legs spread with Harry’s weight resting over the front of his body. 

Louis twirled his fingers in the collection of curls teasing the base of Harry’s neck. He smiled with crinkled eyes, Harry smiling so wide that his dimples deepened.

“Today is going to be so much fun,” Louis whispered, Harry nodding and bringing their lips together. Harry’s lips pursed and Louis snuffled, closing the gap for another kiss. “God,” he exhaled, smiling dopily. “You’re so beautiful.”

Harry chuckled and kissed him again, their noses puffing out breaths of laughter while they kissed. Harry’s right hand slid up Louis’ front, Louis cradling the small of his back.

“Do we have to get up yet? It’s been forever since we were both off on a weekend morning.”

Louis hummed low in his throat and let his head fall limp on the pillow.

“We’ve got…” His iPhone alarm went off and both groaned. Harry reached to the right and tapped the screen. Louis held up his pointer finger. “One snooze. One snooze until we have to get up.”

“Nine minutes will be lovely.” Harry rolled onto his side with is back to Louis. He smirked over his shoulder. “Lovely Emoji choices on your alarm, as well.” Louis smiled and pressed his blushing face to Harry’s shoulder as he held him around the waist. Harry spun the ring on Louis’ finger. “I’ll make us tea on the terrace in nine minutes.”

“With alien toast?” 

“Of course.” Harry shut his eyes, smiling crookedly. “We’ve got a big day ahead of us. Need to keep our strength up.”

. . .

High heels and dress shoes clopped cheerfully against cobblestone streets and cement sidewalk. Small groups of people walked up to Kitchen Corp, located in the serene, tree lined neighbourhood of [Maida Vale](https://www.airbnb.com/locations/london/maida-vale).

Though Maida Vale was thought of primarily as a residential area, or a spot for visitors to ride gondolas through the ‘Little Venice’ canals on its southern border, Harry and Alex felt it was the best choice for their first venture together. Both favoured traditional restaurants that served proper meals. They felt that the Maida Vale community would appreciate their style of food. 

When Joe, Alex’s celebrity investor, sent him a message about the potential location, Alex fell in love with the airy restaurant on the spot. Once he saw the included courtyard, he was a goner, and Harry fell for it just as fast. It was Alex and Joe’s decision, as they were the majority partners, but they valued Harry’s opinion on the space, even though he would have a smaller commitment due to only designing seasonal desserts and training the staff to recreate his work.

Harry particularly loved how so many residents of Maida Vale took part in outdoor activities. He and Louis had already played tennis on the courts near Kitchen Corp multiple times, along with going for walks during construction breaks and watching dogs play in a local dog park. 

It was very important to both Louis and Harry that Harry would not be overworked or over extended by taking on so many projects. He wanted to produce quality food no matter where he was, whether that was at Helena’s, at Étincelle, which was only open certain times during the week, or at Kitchen Corp. Kitchen Corp would provide a touch of extra income with a small time commitment; it seemed too good to pass up when Alex insisted he needed Harry’s desserts at his first restaurant. 

Harry also refused to fall into the hole that so many chefs struggle with in regards to their partner or spouse. He was sure to schedule himself in such a way that he and Louis spent as much time together as they could. Louis’ scheduling expertise came in handy when flexibility was needed. Weekends could be tricky from time to time, but they found ways to see each other every day and schedule regular holidays.

“Aren’t they going on holiday tomorrow?” Ed asked, adjusting his tie. “Weird time for a tasting menu.” His steps slowed as he tugged at the fabric, Zayn bumping into his back. “Oh,” Ed looked over his shoulder “sorry, mate.”

Zayn smiled, his eyes shielded by black sunglasses and his expression sleepy.

“No worries, man.”

“They’re going to Italy,” Niall said. He squeezed Damini’s hand and swayed their arms between them. “It’s Harry’s prize trip from Top Chef. They had to use it within eighteen months or else they’d lose it.”

“Wow,” Liam said, his eyes wide. “Has it really been a year and a half since he was on the show?”

“Yep,” Niall nodded. “He got back two Decembers ago.”

“Crazy. Time is flying. How is it April already?”

Zayn asked, “You can tell time on your telephonic device from the olden days?”

Liam’s eyes slid to Zayn, both of their lips twitching.

“Very funny, love,” Liam said, fighting a smile.

Anne, Robin, and Gemma walked up to the restaurant with Harry’s father, Des, and Jay’s family. The twins were occupied by their dresses, while Lottie, Fizzy, and Gemma were all watching a music video on Gemma’s phone.

“This neighbourhood is so peaceful,” Jay said, her arm looped with Anne’s. “I love it here.”

“Me, too,” Anne said. “Have you been around here before?”

“No, I’ve only seen photos.”

“Oh, you must bring the girls to Little Venice. They’ll love it. Harry took me here once when they were still under construction, but I’ve never seen the restaurant up and running.”

“They’ve been receiving glowing reviews, even being as young of an operation as they are.” Jay pat the top of Anne’ hand and smiled, nudging on their shoulders together. “You must be so proud.”

“It’s basically all she talks about,” Gemma said from behind them.

As they entered the restaurant, another group of people came in right behind them.

“What are you doing out here, Ramsay?” Simon thumbed to the left, a smile playing at his lips. “The kitchen is that way. I like my steaks rare, thank you.”

“Very funny, very funny.” Gordon bent over and cooed, “Hello, there, little pumpkin,” at a white, fabric-covered puff of a baby hidden within a pram. “Aren’t you a pretty lass?” He smiled up at Simone, who had a sleeping two year old resting on her hip in a matching puffy dress. “She must have gotten that from her mummy.”

“Enough,” Simon laughed, bumping Gordon with his hip. “You utter scoundrel. I’ve no idea why they invited you.”

A camera flashed behind them, Gordon pulling his black jacket collar over his face and flashing the photographer a peace sign.

“Twenty quid says he hired that guy himself,” Simon muttered, Gordon laughing loudly and elbowing his way through the door.

Inside, they were met by a professional photographer. There were small white cards assigning guests to tables. The cards were outlined with a thin red border and featured a small black sketch on the bottom right corner, the sketches identifying who sat at which table without using numbers. 

At the front of the room, Jay and the girls were assigned to Table Football with Louis’ grandparents. Anne, Robin, Des, and Gemma were at Table Pastry Bag beside them, where Helena and Henri were also assigned. Harry and Louis were sitting with their families, but were technically sitting on the edges of each table so as to be next to each other. The arrangement allowed both to interact with everyone while they ate. 

The guys, Ed, Damini, Ravi, and Tonya were placed at Table Pizza. Most of the Simone related guests, including Simon and his family, were assigned to Table iPad. Gordon and the other guests from the food world were seated at Table Wooden Spoon.

While guests mulled over their place cards, which featured a modern font with tiny chocolate chip cookie sketches dotting the i’s, Harry and Louis appeared from a side door near the entrance. Both were dressed in black suits with white shirts and black ties. Harry’s hair was freshly brushed, parted to the left, and almost reached his shoulders, Louis’ hair blown back in a smooth pompadour.

“There you both are!” Jay said, reaching towards Louis. “We’ve been wondering when you’d make your entrance.”

They hugged tightly, Louis kissing both of her cheeks. She squeezed Harry’s shoulder, Harry smiling and hugging her at the same time as his mum. Louis dropped to his knees and held his hands out. Both twins lunged at him and he smiled up at Jay, who arched an eyebrow. 

“What?” Louis asked.

“You look amazing.”

“Oh.” He stood up, brushing his knees. “Thank you.”

“You look…” She looked towards Harry’s head of wavy hair as he hugged his father on the other side of the crowd. “You both look fancy. Formal.”

Louis chuckled quietly.

“We’re just wearing suits. They’re black, so they look a bit fancier, maybe.” 

“You match like the Backstreet Boys,” Fizzy said, hugging her brother and swaying in place.

“But there’s only two of us,” Louis replied.

Lottie said, “Liam, Zayn, and Niall seem like they could do the Everybody dance.”

Louis cackled and shook his head.

“Good luck with that. Liam and I learned that dance decades ago, plus a selection of other boy band hits, but you’d be hard pressed to find the others doing choreography.”

“Hey,” Harry drawled deeply from across the room, faux-wounded. “You like my dancing.”

Louis winked at him and bent over to kiss his grandmother’s cheek, Harry’s eyes sparkling as he hugged his grandfather. Louis smoothed his hands over the silky gold material of his grandmother’s dress.

“Don’t you look stunning.”

“Oh, darling,” she said, waving her lacy white gloves. “You’re making me blush.”

Louis grinned, returning his attention to Jay and reaching for her hand.

“I’m so glad you all wore the new outfits.” He twirled his mother in place, Jay laughing. “You look gorgeous in champagne. And your hair! Look at that volume!” He twirled her again, Jay laughing harder as surrounding people swirled around her. “You’re giving me such Real Housewife chic. I love it.”

“You and Harry are so funny. Taking everyone shopping on a rainy Sunday for no reason.”

“I personally enjoyed that Sunday very much,” Fizzy said, admiring her nude Michael Kors pumps.

“Why did you send a hair lady to our hotel room?” Phoebe asked, smoothing her hands over her curly updo. “And why are we in a hotel room instead of your house?”

Louis pinched her cheek.

“We did it that way so you weren’t all on top of each other at our flat. Besides, you just want to stay at ours so you can have cupcakes for breakfast.” She pawed at his hand, hiding her smile by turning her face away. He ran his fingers down the tousled ends of Jay’s long, brown hair. “We figured, if we’re taking photos for promo, you all could get a bit of pampering.”

“Can you do promo every day?” Daisy asked. She shook her hair out with a dramatic sway of her head, Jay and Louis exchanging an amused look. “I like getting my hair done.”

Across the room, Harry stood still as Gemma examined the inner left seam of his jacket.

“I swear, Gems, I didn’t rip it. It was a tiny, miniscule sound. Not a tear. Nope. No way.”

She ran her finger down the seam.

“You flailed your arms so violently, you’re lucky you still have your jacket intact.”

“Hey, I was excited to see Aunt Laurie!” Harry waved at his aunt, Gemma huffing and holding his arm still. “I haven’t seen her in forever.”

Gemma smiled warmly and stepped back. 

“Alright, alright.” She squeezed both of his shoulders. “Your seams are intact. For now.”

“Thank you.” He hugged her without warning, Gemma squeaking and teetering on her black stilettos. “You’re the best.”

“You’re awfully huggy today. You’re all hyped up.”

Harry smiled and swayed them side to side.

“Nah, just happy to see everyone together. I love it when we’re all together.”

Gemma’s head popped backwards.

“What are you hiding?”

“Nothing,” Harry laughed easily. “What would I be hiding?”

Gemma arched her brows and tapped her pointed toe, but a tubular, zen chiming sound interrupted her reply. A host called Bryan stepped into the wide archway leading to the dining room. He gently clapped his hands once and smiled.

“If everyone would be so kind as to find their seats, we can begin with our first course.” He held his arm out. “We’re very excited for your tasting menu today.”

The crowd chattered excitedly and went into the dining room.

“This space is so lovely,” Jay said, looping her arm through Louis’ arm. “I’m not usually into such sparse design, but there’s a warmth here.”

“Completely agree,” Anne said, walking beside them with Harry. “There’s such an energy in this space. It’s so...Happy.”

They passed a few tables before they got to Table Pastry Bag and Table Football. 

Jay murmured to Louis, “I love those flowers. I love the tables.” Her voice got louder without her control. “I love everything about this space!” He laughed softly and squeezed her forearm. “What a wonderful investment for Harry. You could even do weddings, with the courtyard being so beautiful.”

Louis glanced to the side without moving his head. Harry’s eyes were already on him, both smiling with only the right sides of their lips.

“Yeah,” Louis said, scratching the back of his neck. “The, erm, size and shape of the space lends itself to certain events, even though it’s really not that large of a space.”

They entered the main room of the restaurant. It had been rearranged to house the large round tables. White table cloths contrasted with the [dark, wide plank hardwood ](http://www.armstrong.com/flooring/hardwood/blackened-brown-hickory-5-in-solid-hardwood-wide-plank-APH5409/floor-145997.asp). The freshly painted walls were the barest shade of warm cream, nearly white, and housed photos and art all in matching black frames.

“Hey, those are mine,” Zayn said, pointing at a row of colourful, abstract paintings. He looked to Harry and Louis, his smile euphoric. “I love it.”

“Oh my God,” Liam hissed, holding his flexed hand to his face and leading Zayn to their table. “What the fuck are you doing giving out nude paintings of me for public viewing!?”

“What?” Zayn paused in front of the abstract in reds and pinks. “You look amazing, if I do say so myself. Besides, you can’t even tell it’s you. It’s abstract.”

Liam stared at him with a deadpanned look, his actual face next to his mashed up, boxy face in the painting. Zayn held his laughter back for three seconds before he started to snort, Niall passing by and giggling, “Nice cock,” in Liam’s ear.

Niall and Zayn went towards their table, Liam holding his hands in front of himself while saying, “My bloody family is here, my cock’s out, and you two think this is funny?”

The other guests traveled around the room, all admiring the decor and art as they found their seats.

There were simple glass vases on the centre of each table holding either an arrangement of fluffy white peonies or vibrant red tulips. A red ribbon, about an inch wide, wrapped smoothly around the round, narrow neck of each vase. The plates were pure white, the flatware matte silver. 

On top of each plate was a cardstock menu outlining the possible choices for the brunch. Though normal brunch fare would be offered, such as Tomlinson Banana Pancakes and Waffles a la Styles with Homemade Hazelnut Ice Cream, there were also savoury main courses available if requested, including Tennis Match Chicken and Lover’s Lamb.

“I think I’ll have the lamb,” Gemma said, balancing the cardstock corner on each pointer finger. “I want some meat.”

Anne caught Harry’s sleeve and held onto him, Harry smiling and ricocheting backwards. He bent over.

“Yes, miss? Does your table need more bread?”

“No, thank you,” she said on a laugh. She smoothed his sleeve. “I was just wondering, is the restaurant always set up like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like,” she gestured to the flowers in the middle of the table, “with the white and red theme. The contrasting flowers. That sort of thing.”

“Oh, well, no, not necessarily. We wanted to keep the decor pretty neutral, so it’s normally pretty bare. When we have private parties, a designer comes in to set up.” His eyes sparkled. “Why? You looking to book an event? Alex is in the kitchen, if you need to know the schedule.”

“No, no, don’t be silly,” she said, her melodic laugh causing Harry to giggle. “I was just wondering.”

Harry widened his eyes, using his brows to do a sweep of the room. He looked back to his mother.

“Do you like it?”

She gushed, “Of course! I adore white peonies.”

The right side of Harry’s mouth twitched higher. 

“Good. I do, too.” He pointed towards the kitchen. “I just need to run in and check on something really quick. I’ll be back shortly.”

“Alright, love.”

Anne faced forward and reached out towards the flowers. She ran her fingers over the fluffy peonies and smiled. Gemma sat beside her, handing over a flute of champagne.

“Oh, how adorable,” Anne said, plucking a white book from around the vase of white peonies. “I suppose this is their version of a centrepiece.”

“Why are there centrepieces at all? Aren’t we here to eat?”

“Can’t you, for one moment, enjoy a lovely tablescape with your mother?”

“Relax, Contessa,” Gemma laughed, her lips brushing her flute of champagne. She crossed her leg, her slim black suit trousers riding up on her ankle. “What’s that?”

“They put little books around the centrepieces.” Anne opened the cover and her eyes widened. “Photos! Oh,” she flattened her hand over her heart, “how sweet.”

“Photos?” Gemma placed her chin on Anne’s shoulder. “Them?"

Photos of Harry and Louis in various locations fluttered by as Anne thumbed through the book. They were smiling in the sun while on holiday in Barcelona, Spain. Hiking beside a waterfall in green, gorgeous Portland, Oregon. Screaming at an Arctic Monkeys concert. Eating poutine in Montreal, burritos in San Francisco, and dripping ice cream cones on their terrace.

Casual photos of them around the house were slipped in among the more prepared photos. Louis sleeping against an enormous bag of flour, his legs crossed and his arms hugging himself. Harry laughing and Louis pouting, both covered by something powdery in their kitchen with a failed homemade pizza spread on the island. Harry standing on the sofa with his eyes wide with terror, his lips pursed as if he was pleading with Louis, his finger pointed at a tiny spider staring up at him from the coffee table. 

There were even a select few photos that appeared to have been taken while lazing about. Nothing scandalous, mostly sleepy shots of them watching television or selfies while relaxing in bed. The closest thing to scandalous was a photo of them looking quite shocked, their faces covered by green face mask and their tongues touching. 

Group shots outnumbered the private photos. Liam, Zayn, and Niall were featured heavily, as were their families and work friends. Birthday parties, vacations, video game marathons, concerts. School graduations and dance recitals for Louis’ sisters, backstage tours with Gemma while she was on the road, tea parties with their mothers, and a weekend fishing trip with Robin and Des.

No matter the photo, no matter the scenario, they were smiling or laughing, save for any insect emergencies or cooking mishaps. For those photos, the camera was often shaky, as if the photographer was laughing while capturing the moment.

“Oh, we’re in here,” Anne said, her voice wobbling. “All of us are. And them. Oh, they’re just,” she delicately touched her collar bone, “so sweet.”

“Have some champagne before you pass out.” Anne laughed and gently slapped her shoulder, Gemma laughing, “It’s just them being dorks. Who takes a selfie when eating ice cream?”

“But they’re adorable. They’re so...They’re so sweet together.”

Gemma took the book and leafed through. Despite her best effort to remain indifferent, a smile stretched across her face. She flipped the book in her hand.

“The Cannibal and the Mindreader,” she read off the cover. She shook her head. “They’re so fucking weird.”

“Gemma!”

Gemma laughed and placed the book on their table, sliding her arm around the back of her mother’s chair.

“Let’s see, then,” Anne said, opening the book. “What have they got as the happy ending?”

She turned to the final pages. Two black and white full-page photos took up each side of the book. 

The left side was a photo of Harry and Louis in simple black suits, both of their shirts white and their ties black; their outfits were the exact same as what they wore that day. They had an arm around each other’s shoulder, no light visible between their bodies. They were standing in front of what looked like a raised wooden bench. Both smiled wide and bright, Harry’s mouth open slightly as if he was laughing and Louis’ eyes crinkled almost closed.

“What is,” Anne said, her voice trailing off. Her brows rose as she stared at the first photo. “Harry’s hair…” She touched Harry’s head in the photo. His hair only reached below his ears; it now was almost at his shoulders. “When…”

A hush fell over the tables of guests.

Gemma whispered, “Oh.”

Anne touched the right page, her eyes as wide as Gemma’s. She ran her fingers over a photo of Louis and Harry’s hands. They were holding a piece of paper between them. They held hands below the paper with their knuckles facing up, sunlight glinting off of their rings.

It seemed that all the other guests were at around the same spot in The Cannibal and the Mindreader. Gasps were the only sound in the room, guests sitting stunned at their tables.

Harry and Louis exchanged a smile, secretive and soft, from their side-by-side seats. They glanced from table to table, their smiles growing. Harry stroked the side of Louis’ neck and brought his lips to his ear.

“I think they reached the end of the first book,” Harry whispered, Louis chuckling and rubbing the top of his thigh. “Shall we explain?”

Louis rolled his head on his neck and squinted as he smiled.

“But it’s so fun to watch our mothers turn more and more red.”

Harry nudged his forehead forward.

“My mum is nearly purple.”

Louis grinned and bumped his head into Harry’s shoulder.

“She’s probably speed dialing The Sun Quartet as we speak. Hello,” he whispered in a breathy, high voice, “we have a celebration emergency!” Harry muffled his laughter with his hand, Louis continuing to coo, “We have a Code Champagne! A Code Champagne! We need Brahms and Debussy, stat!”

“Oh my God, stop,” Harry laughed behind his hand, Louis snickering. “We’re drawing looks and,” Harry winced, “they aren’t the most pleasant of looks.”

Louis wrapped his hand around Harry’s hand and nodded. Both stood up and faced the crowd. They made eye contact first with each of their mothers, who were looking at them with the fury of ten thousand suns. Louis could see his mother’s lips hissing, “Did they get married!?” to Anne, Anne’s eyes caught between blazing rage and pure joy.

Liam’s voice stuck out of the silence.

“Oh, this is--This was in January,” he said, tapping the photo of the paper. His brows furrowed nearly to the point of blinding himself. “January fourth of this year.” He looked up at Harry and Louis. “Are you two…”

Harry and Louis’ friends started to stand and cheer, but the icy stares of their mothers caused the group to quiet immediately and plop into the seats.

“Right,” Harry said, clapping his large palms in front of his chest. The sound resonated through the silent space, Harry’s throat clearing weakly. Louis slid his hand up the back of Harry’s suit jacket, thumbing down the dip of his spine. “So, we know you’re all probably a bit confused.”

“And annoyed,” Louis added, unable to stop his lips from quirking when he looked at his mother. “Understandably.”

“But,” Harry continued, “we had an idea that worked for us, that made us happy, and we went with it. We hope you will all respect that.”

“But what was the bloody plan?” Gordon Ramsay asked. “All this dancing around, you two are a pair of Baryshnikov's up there and we haven’t even gotten our starters.” A few people looked towards the sound of his voice and noticed, at that very moment, that they were sitting in the presence of Gordon Ramsay. “Hello, everyone,” he said, waving one hand. He jutted his chin forward. “Best pay attention to the newlyweds.”

“Could you be more of an attention hog,” Simon muttered, Gordon elbowing him.

Louis smiled and said, “The plan was to get married, just the two of us, and have the reception,” he swirled his arms in the air, “which is this gathering, afterwards.”

“But, why?” Jay asked, her large blue eyes watering. “Why couldn’t we know? You two have an unnatural obsession with surprise parties.” 

Harry laughed aloud but quieted himself, clearing his throat and rolling up on the balls of his feet.

“We didn’t want any of you to have to spend money,” Louis said, fighting a laugh. “We didn’t want anyone to buy gifts or stress about what to wear. We didn’t want that. We wanted our loved ones to be able to come and enjoy a wonderful meal, have a lovely day, and not worry about anything.”

“You could have told the women who carried you in their wombs and pushed you out of their bodies that you were getting married,” Anne said, smiling but with a driven, over-cheerful tone. She quirked her head, Gemma filling Anne’s champagne glass as discreetly as possible. “A text would have been sufficient, albeit unconventional.”

“It would have been sufficient,” Jay added in a similar, tight voice.

“We were engaged,” Harry chuckled, his smile bashful. “We both asked each other’s parents for permission before we proposed. We both wore our rings all the time.” He thumbed Louis’ knuckles, Louis’ hand squeezing his own. “We were together for almost a year. Then, we were engaged for over a year. It’s not like it was,” his smile widened, his voice drawling, “that abrupt.”

“There’s no official number of months that people need to be together to get married,” Louis said, “but, in our defense,” he shrugged, “you all knew it was coming.” 

“We just...We...” 

Harry’s mouth moved silently, his eyes darting to Louis. To his husband. His breath caught, Louis smiling with his lips shut and squeezing his hand. Harry swallowed, Louis squeezing his hand as he breathed in and out. Louis nodded once.

“Go on, love,” he whispered. “You’ve got it.”

“We didn’t want to wait until there was a perfect time,” Harry explained, his eyes still on Louis, “because there are no perfect times.” He looked towards the crowd. “With both of our work schedules, and all the various events that pop up every week, we didn’t want to wait forever.”

Louis said, “We knew we wanted to get married for quite some time, so, we got married. Wedding planning did not appeal to either of us, so,” he smiled brightly, “here we are.”

“So, to clarify,” Zayn said, rubbing his chin and studying his photobook. He flipped the book to face Harry and Louis. “You’ve been legally married for around three months?”

“Mmhmm,” Harry hummed, Louis saying, “Yup,” at the same time. Both smiled and glanced at each other, their cheeks pinking. Harry’s eyes bulged and Louis burst out laughing, Harry giggling quietly. 

“But why the fourth of January?” Jay asked. “What day of the week was that, even?”

Liam offered, “Maybe they wanted to be able to say, ‘May the fourth be with you,’ on their anniversary?” 

“Aw, good one, babe,” Zayn giggled.

Louis smiled at Liam’s comment.

“We were both off on the fourth, off for the whole day, which is sometimes rare. The fourth of January is...It’s, um,” he smiled at Harry, his face heating to an even brighter red, “an anniversary of sorts for us.” Harry’s eyes sparkled, his dimples deepening. “We woke up and decided,” Louis huffed out a small laugh, “let’s get married today. So, we did.” 

“We did,” Harry echoed, his voice soft. He swayed their hands between them, a slow smile blooming on his face. “We got married.”

Their mothers let out watery, sobbing sounds at the same time. The crowd awwed and chuckled, Jay and Anne offering their sons shaky smiles. 

“We got married, but,” Louis held out the word, looking from guest to guest, “we didn’t say our own vows to each other at the courthouse. We wrote them, but didn’t share them yet. If you’re all interested, we were thinking of doing that today. With all of you present.”

Niall made a loud, throaty, sobbed noise, muffling his mouth with his hands.

“Shit, I’m already crying,” he blubbered, pressing his face into Zayn’s shoulder. The crowd laughed louder, Damini and Zayn rubbing his back. “Don’t mind me.” He waved his white napkin in front of his face. “I always cry at weddings.” He sniffled and laughed on one breath in, resulting in a snorting noise. “I’m gonna be a mess at mine and Mini’s.”

Ravi tilted his head, his laughter softening.

“What?”

Jay cried, “Enough talking! Get over here, you crazy boys!” She stood from her seat and held her arms out. “Come hug us, you crazy, infuriating, married boys!”

Their guests jumped up and surged forward with everyone cheering and talking at once.

“Wow, that was a rapid change of emotions,” Louis laughed before he was pulled into his mother’s perfumed, tight embrace. 

They exchanged hugs and kisses with everyone in the room. Waiters started placing platters of starters on each table while the guests mingled, coffee and tea poured from shining silver pots.

“No gifts,” Harry warned Anne, his brows furrowed seriously. “We don’t want gifts, but thank you very much for offering.”

“Surely you need a little bit of travel money for your trip! I have cash at the hotel. You can have dinner in Tuscany on us! On your honeymoon! Please, Harry. Please?”

“Mum,” he laughed, Anne batting her eyelashes with her palms touching in front of her chest. He held her shoulders. “If you really want to spend money, we have a list of charities--”

“Oh, God, you’re so boring,” Gemma groaned. “Just take the money and have some bloody gnocci. You got married. Accept a gift.”

Harry rolled his eyes at his sister, Anne victoriously clapping her hands with tiny, quick touches of her fingertips.

Liam stepped away from his parents to catch Louis’ sleeve. Louis’ eyes lit up.

“Hey, mate,” he smiled, pulling him into a half hug. “Having fun?”

Liam chuckled quietly.

“Uh, yeah. This is an interesting sort of party.”

“Cool,” Louis laughed. “Where’s Zayn?”

“Talking to Ed about some mixtape thing. Hey, so, was the fourth of January,” Liam smirked and leaned his forehead forward, “you know.” He gave a slow, dramatic wink, Louis’ answering smile just as slow and mischievous. Liam chuckled out, “You know.”

“It was the first time Harry came over. For,” Louis’ eyes darted around, his voice lowering, “you know.”

“Laundry.” 

Louis laughed, delighted.

“Yeah, exactly.” He giggled softer, itching behind his ear. “Our first time doing laundry.”

“How romantic.”

They both chuckled

“Hey, I was wondering if you would be able to help us really quick for the non-ceremony. It’s really simple, no reading aloud required, and...” Louis’ eyes crinkled, but his lower eyelids started to shimmer, his smile faltering. “It would mean a lot to me.”

Liam’s head recoiled back on his neck, his eyes blinking rapidly.

“Of course,” he said, his words thick. He nodded once and smiled, the corners of his mouth twitching. “I’d be honoured. Whatever you want.”

Once the initial shock of their announcement wore off, guests were guided to the courtyard, where they were met by leafy green trees, glass jugs of iced coffee and iced tea, empty mason jars, and a bursting tray of small dessert nibbles. There were rows of white chairs set up with a small aisle splitting the chairs down the middle, a white wicker archway waiting at the end of the aisle.

“We haven’t even had brunch yet,” Gemma chuckled as she munched a lemon bar. She sipped her black iced coffee. “This is delicious, though.”

“We had to have iced coffee at the wedding,” Harry said, pouring some for Lottie. “It’s one of our favourite things.” He picked up two mini cupcakes, one vanilla and one chocolate, and snuck them to Phoebe and Daisy, who smiled up at him. “Not too cool for breakfast cupcakes now that you’re,” Harry gasped and clutched his chest, “teenagers?”

The girls giggled and shook their heads, Phoebe laughing, “You’re so silly.”

Guests sat down in the neat rows of white chairs. There were no particular sides for Louis or Harry’s guests. Families and friends mixed together in the sunlight. Niall, Zayn, and Ed sat with Liam’s parents, Damini and Ravi in the second row. Music started to play from hidden speakers.

[Trespassers William - Rainbow Connection (originally by Paul Williams)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39kpIe-XHS8)

Everyone turned towards the back of the courtyard with iPhones and cameras poised. Happy gasps and excited laughter smattered around the buzzing group. Smiling pairs of grandparents walked down the aisle arm in arm. The grandmothers held small bouquets of white peonies and red tulips, matching boutonnieres looped in the jacket pockets of the grandfathers. 

Niall bent forward in his seat with his elbows on his knees, hid his face with his hands, and let out a silent scream.

“Are you okay?” Damini whisper-laughed, rubbing his back. “What’s wrong?”

He tilted his head and opened one watery eye.

“Happy old people, Kermit the Frog, and rainbows?” His one eye bulged. “Are they trying to get me to cry even more!?”

“Oh, love,” Damini whispered, trying to dampen her laughter. She bit her lips and squeezed his shoulder. “It’s alright. You must have had too much wasabi at sushi yesterday.”

Niall’s eyes lit up and darted to the back of the aisle. 

“Oh, my God. Those sneaky bastards. Haz asked me to mix this song with another one the other day and…” He started to laugh while shaking his head. “I can’t believe them.”

Louis’ sisters walked down the aisle one by one. They each had on simple white flower crowns and small bouquets similar to their grandmothers. Their new dresses, courtesy of Harry and Louis, were all in the white and tan family, with the twins wearing dresses made of pale pink, nearly cream coloured shimmery material. 

Des and Robin followed, also wearing flower crowns, much to the delight of the laughing crowd.

Next came Gemma, in her sleek black pantsuit and stilettos, a red tulip bouquet in hand. She walked arm and arm with Liam, who looked very James Bond in his black suit and tie. Zayn turned in his chair with his phone raised. He whistled quietly through his teeth, his smile blazing. Liam gave him a small smile as he walked by, Zayn winking and mouthing, “You look gorgeous, love.”

Gemma and Liam separated to stand on either side of the wicker archway. There was a gentle transition in the music before another song started. 

[John Mayer - XO (originally by Beyonce)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7L-Rwxoc2jU)

Louis and Jay appeared beside Harry and Anne at the top of the aisle. A hush fell over the crowd, who rose to their feet. 

The grooms stood in the middle. Their mothers flanked them on either side with all of their arms linked. Jay’s floor-length champagne dress and Anne’s pearly cream gown were similar in style, both beaming smiles with their dark hair wavy and loose. Jay carried a bouquet of pure white peonies, Anne carrying a bouquet of red tulips. Harry and Louis each had boutonnieres made with one red tulip and one white peonie.

“Fuck. Beyonce. Mums. Fuck,” Zayn whispered, his hand shaking around his iPhone. He glanced at Liam, who was making his scrunched, trying-not-to-cry face. “Now I’m going to cry.”

“Give in, man,” Niall said, wiping his face with his jacket cuff. “Just give in.”

Church giggles racked Zayn’s body, his artful strand of hair bouncing off his eyebrows.

The grooms reached the front of the aisle and they unlinked their arms. Anne went towards Louis; Jay went towards Harry. They kissed their new sons on both cheeks, embracing for a long moment. They broke apart to hug their own sons, tiny murmurs emerging from the pile of four people hugging. Harry’s low voice could be heard murmuring something that sounded like nonsense to the crowd, but made Anne and Jay cackle, Louis’ higher voice adding a comment that made all four laugh.

Finally, the mothers stepped back and took their seats. Anne sat in the aisle seat on the left side, Gemma, Robin and Des beside her with Harry’s grandparents in the row behind them. Jay sat in the aisle seat on the right side opposite front row, her mother and daughters seated around her.

Harry and Louis stared at each other for a beat, then laughed, the crowd laughing along with them. Harry took a folded sheet of paper out of his trouser pocket.

“Actually,” Louis touched the top of Harry’s hand, “may I go first?” 

“Oh,” Harry said, his voice popping like a bubble. The right side of Louis’ pursed lips rose. “Sure, of course.” Harry smiled and nodded, holding his hand out. “Whatever you want.”

“He’s already got the spouse schtick down,” Simon murmured, the surrounding guests chuckling.

“Figured I’d keep you on your toes,” Louis said quiet enough for only Harry to hear.

Harry snuffled, “Of course,” and nodded.

Louis took a piece of paper out of his breast pocket and unfolded it. He flashed the handwriting covered side at Harry and swayed it towards the audience.

“I wrote by hand, for once, so I might make a few mistakes reading human handwriting instead of my iPad.”

Harry giggled, delighted, and joined their left hands. 

“That’s okay.” He thumbed over Louis’ knuckles. “Take as much time as you need.”

“Alright,” Louis said softly. “I...I hope you like them. My vows.”

“I’m going to love them.”

Louis’ smile grew to a full-faced, crinkly-eyed, uncontrollable grin, Harry huffing out another quick laugh. The shifting of someone in the crowd startled them, both looking at their army of guests. Louis cleared his throat and licked his lips.

“Harry.” 

Just saying his name made Harry beam, the sight of his dimples sending shivers up Louis’ spine. 

Louis continued, “Everyone teases us because we’re private, and we are. We’re private. We don’t deny that we’re private. It’s just our style. I had to have an organ burst,” Harry giggled, the crowd laughing, “for you to meet my mum in person. We’re private. But,” he looked at their guests, “you all have likely seen a very big moment for us, a moment one would think would be done in private, thanks to the wonderful invention that is YouTube.”

“Oh God,” Harry groaned on a laugh, his hand smoothing over his face. “The bloody,” he made air quotes, “‘Hot Romantic Chef Wins Award And Rambles A Lot,’ video.”

“Yes,” Louis said, laughing along with the crowd. “When Harry was nominated for a couple of awards--”

“And won said awards,” Simon piped up.

Most of the crowd hooted and applauded. Harry smiled and ran his hand through his hair, murmuring, “Thank you,” at their guests.

“Yes, he won said awards,” Louis said, smiling proudly. “When he won two categories at the London Food and Wine Awards, Harry gave a beautiful, beautiful duo of speeches. And, in his second speech, he told me he loved me for the first time.” 

Though they were outdoors, it felt as if the air in the courtyard was sucked up by the clouds. Louis’ conversational tone froze the audience in place as they stared rapt at the pair.

“He said it in French in front of the entire London food and wine community. He said it into a microphone,” Louis laughed, “with cameras rolling, but it didn’t matter who he said it in front of, or how he said it, or even what language he said it in.”

Louis brushed his fingers over the top of Harry’s wrist, his smile crooked. His voice went softer, lower, to address Harry.

“I’d been so in love with you for so long that a part of me wasn’t shocked. Sure, in the moment, my heart was pounding and I was sweating like an animal and sort of almost cried, or actually did cry a little, but...It didn’t matter where or when you told me that you loved me, because I knew it and you knew it and everyone around us knew it.” Harry nodded minutely. “I would have told you that I loved you that day, the day before, the day after. It didn’t matter because the love was there; because we both could feel it.”

Harry’s eyes shivered with shining tears, his lips tight in a trembling, pursed smile.

“And,” Louis said, his voice cracking. He smiled wider. “And I’m going to borrow from you, from something you said that weekend, to finish my vows.”

A flicker of confusion caused Harry’s eyes to narrow, but he continued to smile, nodding once. The gentle dips beneath Harry’s bottom eyelids were already streaked with shining moisture, his lips bitten dark pink.

Louis pocketed his note. He held both of Harry’s hands and smiled. 

“I’m--”

His voice crackled and was caught in his throat, his eyes rolling up to the cloudless sky. He could feel Harry’s warmth come closer, boots shuffling on the grass and Harry’s fingers lacing with his own.

“I’m gonna marry you one day, if you’ll have me,” Louis whispered, brushing his thumb over Harry’s wedding ring. 

Harry let out a wet sound that resembled a honked laugh. He clenched his eyes shut and turned his face away from the audience. He took a few quick breaths in through his nose, Louis’ warmth now radiating over his front. Louis squeezed his hands, lifting his right hand to guide Harry’s face towards him.

“I’d marry you tomorrow, Harry Styles,” Louis said, Harry smiling with tears trickling from his eyes. “I’d marry you today.” A light giggle entered Louis’ tone. “At brunch, if you’d like. It doesn’t matter if we get married today or tomorrow or the next day. No matter what, I’m going to spend my whole life loving you. Making you happy.”

Harry mouthed along, “Every surprise. Every adventure,” until his deep voice came back as a rasp. Their hands squeezed together, both saying, “Every day of our lives.”

Louis pulled Harry into his body and buried his face in his neck, Harry’s arms tight around his lower back. They held each other for a moment, the crowd silent and stunned; public displays of affection were not their norm.

“I love you so much,” Louis whispered, his words muffled by skin. He kissed Harry’s neck with firm presses of his lips. “I love you, Harry.”

“I-I can’t believe you were awake,” Harry said, his voice trembling and extra low. “All this time, Lou, I...I...” 

Harry pulled his head back enough to cradle Louis’ face with both hands and seared their lips together, close-lipped, but with enough heat to make Louis’ right shoe pop up off the ground. The crowd gasped and somehow became even more silent as they watched Harry and Louis hold each other. Their lips made a slipping sound when they broke apart.

Harry’s eyes bulged, tears plunking off his bottom eyelids. He let out a breathy laugh and the tension in the courtyard eased. Everyone laughed as Harry dabbed his eyes with the back of his hand, still letting out high pitched giggles. He cleared his throat and stood up straight. 

Sudden, high pitched laughter bubbled from him, his words jumbled to say, “You have completely hijacked my vows.” The crowd laughing loudly. “I was going to talk about that morning in the hotel. That exact morning.” He smile crookedly. “You’re living up to your Mindreader title.”

Louis thumbed saliva off his bottom lip.

“And you, my sweet Cannibal.”

They laughed with the crowd of guests. Harry lifted his vows and scanned over the paper. His smile grew, his head gently swaying side to side. He folded the paper and placed it in his pocket.

“Alright,” he cracked his knuckles, “I’m gonna improvise.”

Louis squinted.

“You do know that we have to eat sometime today, yeah? I’d like my eggs to be hot.”

Harry laughed, “Ha,” and joined their hands, the crowd chuckling in the background.

“You can say your original vows, love,” Louis said softly with a nod. He squeezed their hands. “I’ll love them, I promise. Whatever you want to say, say it. I’ll love it.”

“Erm, right, well,” Harry smiled wider for a beat and dropped his gaze to his pigeon-toed black boots, “I...” 

He looked to Louis, who smiled at him with such amusement; such warmth; such patience. Harry knew, at that moment, that they could let the tea and coffee go so cold that the liquid turned into ice. They could let the pancakes and eggs dissolve into piles of mush and the ribbons wilt off of the flower vases. That was how long Louis would stand under the white wicker archway to hear Harry’s vows, with a smile on his face and a warm pair of hands to hold Harry’s own.

“Well,” Harry said slowly, “in my original vows, I was going to talk about you being a mindreader. It’s not just…” He gently shook his head, his hair swaying around his jawline. “It’s not only that you seem to always be a step ahead, or that sometimes you predict the future, or that you’re the best planner and organizer I’ve ever met.” 

Louis’ eyes crinkled, his lips twitching. 

“I love everything about you, Louis. Everything. I love every part of you. Inside and out. Literal and figurative. But I,” he started to smile, “especially love your brain and your gut. And I don’t mean gut as in belly, though,” Harry’s gaze twinkled, “I love that a lot, too.”

“Oh God,” Louis giggled, rolling his eyes up at the sky. The crowd laughed, Louis’ cheeks burning. Under his breath, he whispered, “I cannot.”

Harry continued, “I love your brain and gut because you’re so, so smart. Because you follow your instincts and you always try to do good for others. And it...It makes me think about how, when we first met, I…” Harry’s eyes cautiously swayed towards the captivated crowd, then back to Louis’ flushed face. “I was sort of...Used to a different sort of…” The left side of his lips quirked up, his tongue caressing the word, “Tempo.” 

Louis chuckled, his brows arched high. A few knowing laughs sounded from the crowd, mostly from the second row of their friends. 

“In relationships, I mean,” Harry said, Louis nodding and thumbing Harry’s ring. “And you, with all of your brilliant, mind reading brain cells, seemed to see a different future. A different way for things to play out. And I--”

Harry stopped talking, though his voice showed no audible signs of tears. He blinked extra wide for a few seconds with his focus over Louis’ shoulder, his top lip twitching and his nostrils expanding. Harry’s first two words crawled out of his mouth.

“And I’m…” He looked to Louis, who was mirroring his quick blinks and darkened eyelashes. “I’m so, so thankful,” he said, his voice extra breathy, “and blessed that, when you met me, you saw that future with me. You had that instinct with me. Because I can’t imagine, I don’t want to imagine, a life without you.”

Louis’ knees bent ever so slightly, his hands squeezing Harry’s hands hard enough to bruise.

“You are my life. You are my love,” Harry said, his head leaning forward for each sentence. “I promise to love you; to take care of you; to support you; to honour you; to be the best husband and partner I can be.” A thin shimmer trickled out of the corner of Louis’ left eye, both of Harry’s cheekbones wet. “I promise to love you more and more each day. I love you, Louis, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together.”

Louis exhaled and laughed at the same time, his nose sniffling and his eyelids overflowing with tears. Harry smiled, cradled his jawline, and kissed his right cheekbone, then his left, letting his plush lips linger on Louis’ skin, Louis’ head involuntarily shifting to allow his kisses.

“Are you done, my love?” Louis whispered in his ear.

“Yes.”

Louis stood up straight and blew air through his rounded lips.

“Thank God. I don’t think I could have taken much more.”

The crowd laughed raucously and started to applaud, Harry grinning and pulling him into his arms. Silver and gold confetti showered over them, guests popping tubes of confetti into the blue sky. Louis tucked his face in the crook of his neck, sniffling against Harry’s collar. His fingers laced in the bottom curls of Harry’s hair, Harry repeatedly kissing his forehead and cheeks.

“Damn,” Louis giggled, “and I thought my surprise speech would make you cry more than me.”

“I cried a lot,” Harry said, laughing. “I cried plenty. I’m currently crying.”

Louis leaned back, their arms still around each other. He smiled, thumbing under Harry’s eyes. 

“I guess our plan of quick vows and a cheerful ceremony are shot.”

Harry smiled softly and brushed confetti off of Louis’ pompadour.

“I think it was plenty cheerful.” Their lips pursed for a gentle press. “And it’s fun to be surprised at our own surprise wedding.”

After drying their tears, hugging their guests, and posing for the photographer, they made their way back into the restaurant. The tables had been set with even more food, the smiling waitstaff waiting at each table to assist guests.

“Alright, now we eat,” Harry said in a growled voice, rubbing his stomach with his right hand. His left hand was occupied holding Louis’ hand and swaying their arms between them. “I’m so excited for lamb. And pancakes. Lamb-Cakes, if you will.”

Louis groaned and smiled at Gemma, who was walking on Harry’s other side, her head resting on Harry’s shoulder. 

“You’re the only people I know that would program lamb on a brunch menu,” Gemma said. “That said, I’m pumped for the lamb, too.”

Harry and Louis made sure everyone else was seated and comfortable before they went to their tables. 

“Wait,” Anne said, holding her hands up towards them. “You need to have your dance! It’s tradition.”

“A dance?” Harry chuckled. “There’s going to be lots of dancing after we eat.” He gestured to the empty space running along the length of the restaurant that led to the courtyard. “We have playlists prepared.”

“Not that type of dancing, silly. Your first dance,” Jay said, nodding and pointing two fingers at Anne. “Good thinking. Yes.” She nodded, looking from Harry to Louis. “You need a first dance. Don’t you have a song?”

“Um,” Louis laughed breathily, “we have a lot of songs.”

Anne asked, “But don’t you have a song song?”

“Oh, they’ve got playlists for everything,” Liam said as he started listing on his fingers. “Laundry playlists, running playlists, shower play--”

Louis smoothed his palm down the front of Liam’s face while still smiling at his mother.

“Yeah, there’s a good lad,” Louis said, everyone laughing. He looked to Harry, his smile mischievous. He shrugged his right shoulder forward, his head tilting towards the dance floor. “Want to dance with me?”

“Always,” Harry said on a low laugh. “But...Which song?”

“Hmm.” Louis pursed his lips and fished his iPhone out of his pocket. He sidled up next to Harry and tapped the screen. “Shall we pick it from [yours](https://open.spotify.com/user/dolcepiccante/playlist/1WpqZ2ngUiFn3TO9lrdfRD) or [mine](https://open.spotify.com/user/dolcepiccante/playlist/5akAQuBH9i8UqFyZBNheGK)?” He scrolled lower. “A [more general one](https://open.spotify.com/user/dolcepiccante/playlist/24SDRAEIdBqa6gc0jaahIL) , maybe?”

Harry hummed and used his middle finger to scroll.

“We could go with this [classic](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ajp0Uaw4rqo),” he pointed to a song, “but we’ve danced to that before. Might be repetitive.”

“We could go with a more modern song.”

Harry tilted his head to read the song Louis pointed to, his smile growing.

“I love you, and I love Beyonce, but we’re not having our first dance to Drunk In Love.”

“I could do a quick cover,” Ed offered, prompting laughs around him.

“Technically,” Louis whispered, his voice high and buoyant, “that was the song for our first dance.”

Harry’s face heated, Louis snickering and continuing to scroll.

“How about,” Louis said, dragging out his words. He tapped the screen twice and scrolled to the bottom. He pointed to the playlist. “How about this one? I’ve always loved this song. I love that you put it on The L Mix. I think it works for us, yeah?” 

A lump in Harry’s throat prevented him from saying anything, but he nodded. He wrapped his arm around Louis’ lower back, his hand squeezing Louis’ hip.

Alex took Louis’ phone to the sound system closet and plugged it in. Louis and Harry walked hand in hand to the dance floor. Camera shutters and the sound of family members hurrying to get a good angle accompanied their walk. Alex popped his head out of the sound system closet and winked at them, Harry smiling with his lips shut and nodding once.

[Elvis Presley - Love Me Tender](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v5SkY9WHekg)

Louis’ arms linked around Harry’s shoulders, his cheekbone resting on the soft material covering Harry’s left shoulder. Harry’s large hands flattened on the small of Louis’ back, his face lowering to press his nose into Louis’ hair. They started to sway. As the crowd registered the song, a chorus of sighs and awws filled the room, Harry and Louis chuckling softly.

“Elvis gets ‘em every time,” Louis whispered. He ghosted his fingers through the back of Harry’s hair. “Want me to hum for you?”

Harry huffed into his hair and shifted his face, pressing his lips to Louis’ cheek. He kissed the corner of his mouth.

“I’ll hum, too.”

Louis smiled, lifting himself enough for a chaste peck before resting his face in Harry’s neck. Harry tightened his hold to pull Louis closer as they hummed, his hands curled around Louis’ lower hips. Louis exhaled a small puff of warm air, Harry kissing the hair just above his temple. Their heads tilted to rub their cheeks together, their shoes making quiet, tapping sounds each time they swayed.

“I love you,” Harry whispered, adding, “husband.”

Louis smiled and kissed the back point of his jawline, kissing along his jaw until he reached his lips. Harry cradled the back of his neck with one hand and held his cheek with the other hand, their lips tenderly coming together. 

Louis exhaled, “I love you, husband,” and half opened his eyes, he and Harry smiling dopily before kissing again.

Later, after eating enough brunch to feed an army, cutting their simple, round white cake with tiny pearl detailing around the edges, and dancing to 90’s R&B until the sun set, they took a break at Table Le Louis. Harry picked up one of their books and smiled, his face illuminated by the pages.

“You’re so cute,” Louis said, kissing his shoulder through his white shirt. They had both taken off their jackets and ties hours before, their sleeves rolled up to their elbows and the top few buttons on their shirts undone. “As if we didn’t look at all those pictures until we were nauseous to design the books.”

“I still love them,” Harry said softly. “All of them.” The right side of his mouth rose higher than the left as he reached the final two pages. “You know, it’s funny.”

Louis slid his arm around Harry’s back, resting his chin on top of his shoulder.

“What’s funny?”

Harry flipped the book in his hands. 

“Everyone must have been so shocked by the wedding pictures that they didn’t turn the book over to the back cover.”

An enormous, enormous thank you to our beloved family and friends for coming from far and wide to share this special day with us. It means the world to us that you were here. Thank you for making our surprise day so special! xxx

Thank you to to the amazing crew at Kitchen Corp for providing our lovely venue and meal. 

Thank you to Craigslist.

In an effort to minimize future surprises about major life events…

Stay tuned for the next exciting installment in **The Cannibal and the Mindreader** Series, due out in a couple of years or so: 

**The Cannibal, the Mindreader, and the[Baby Chick ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wTi19MPOvDw)**

  


[Tegan and Sara - Love They Say](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ha-lMhCtmRs)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the final two chapters, which I thought were basically an ode to bodily fluids, tears, and the word LOVE. Much LOVE to all of you!
> 
> A note about the playlists: They are not meant to be the exact playlist each character had. More like suggested songs from their playlists. The main RNTM playlist is mostly songs that I had on for scenes while writing. You’ll see some crossover from The L Mix and The Har-Remix to the RNTM playlist, which was intentional, and I figured sometimes it was the song playing in a character’s head during a scene.
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> [Relief Next to Me Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/dolcepiccante/playlist/24SDRAEIdBqa6gc0jaahIL)
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> [The L Mix](https://open.spotify.com/user/dolcepiccante/playlist/1WpqZ2ngUiFn3TO9lrdfRD)
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> [The Har-Remix](https://open.spotify.com/user/dolcepiccante/playlist/5akAQuBH9i8UqFyZBNheGK)

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer: This is a work of complete fiction. Never happened, not real, no offense is intended. Absolutely does not reflect upon the real life people mentioned in this fictional story. No profit is being made from this work. The story, and its characters, belong to me. Please do not repost anywhere and do not print/distribute. Please do not translate my story, as I am not authorizing translations at this time. This is all meant to be just silly fun. For serious publishing inquiries, please comment with contact information.**
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> Title is from my favorite Tegan and Sara song, [ Relief Next To Me ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yftgnkdan8%20)
> 
> Come say hello on [ LJ](http://dolce-piccante.livejournal.com) and [ Tumblr](http://haydolce.tumblr.com) :)
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> Amazing reader contributions!
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> **GIFSET**  
> [Amazing fic GIF Set by Helen here!](http://seplei.tumblr.com/post/108679263709/relief-next-to-me-by-dolce-piccante-haydolce)
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> **RECIPES**  
> [ Amazing Le Louis recipe by Emmy](http://theemmed.tumblr.com/post/111821194418/this-recipe-is-based-on-the-fic-relief-next-to-me)
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> [Lonely London Bars by dieinthewinter ](http://dieinthewinter.tumblr.com/post/112558369150/relief-next-to-me-lonely-london-bars-recipe)
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> [Le Louis Chocolates by dieinthewinter ](http://dieinthewinter.tumblr.com/post/112645292255/i-tried-my-hand-on-haydolces-relief-next-to-me)
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> [Almond Croissants by dieinthewinter ](http://dieinthewinter.tumblr.com/post/112591542345/relief-next-to-me-almond-croissants)
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> **ART**  
> [ Amazing Chapter 22 Art by ashleyrguillory!](http://ashleyrguillory.tumblr.com/post/113266783847/its-haydolces-birthday-and-i-love-lizz-3)
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> [ Beautiful Valentine's Day art by NEQX](http://36.media.tumblr.com/17cc5552fde507898628498bb6eafc7c/tumblr_n8apilectY1s9nd4po1_1280.jpg)
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> [ Adorable Harry art by ashleyrguillory](http://41.media.tumblr.com/d850d707ada46a85d3350564d6c49235/tumblr_ng2nntnYHi1qibuado1_1280.jpg)  
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